


Chasing Empty Spaces

by Lis (domesticharry)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: All the Smut, Alright so here we go with another blast from the past fic, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Fluff, Harry is to inherit a tobacco firm, Louis is a mechanic, M/M, and a touch of, and as always, and they meet at a club, there is going to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 79,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticharry/pseuds/Lis
Summary: The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.





	1. Chapter One

It all began in early July, 1934. 

The world was becoming quiet around Harry Styles as the sun draped itself across the horizon. Humidity barely subsided as a gentle breeze pushed through the Georgia night. The only noise that surrounded the plantation came from Al Bowlly as his voice gently crooned from a radio. Although he couldn’t see them, Harry knew that his father could be found sitting in the study behind an oak desk and his mother would be getting ready in the master bedroom. 

Anne and Robin met when they were nineteen. Up north in 1894, their fathers opened a tobacco firm together called, Styles & Williams. It was the same firm that Robin had inherited and operated out of Dahlonega, Georgia. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise to anybody when the fathers had set their children up together. After all, successful partnerships led to successful marriages. Or at least, that’s what Anne and Robin had impressed upon Harry and his older sister, Gemma. 

“Hon, come on in and get settled. They’ll be here soon.” 

Harry stood from the porch stoop, the joints of his knees cracking from being stretched out for the first time in an hour or so. Anne was standing in the wide doorway, her almond shaped eyes taking in Harry’s appearance as she fastened a heavy set of pearls around her neck. Her brown hair was neatly pinned back and her navy dress was recently pressed. As Harry took a few steps closer to his mother, he could smell the signature scent of rose oil that signified company was coming over. 

“Harry,” Anne exasperated with a run of her fingers through his unkempt hair. “Do you even care that you’re representin’ your father tonight? Go get dressed in somethin’ nice and fix your hair.” 

“Course I care,” Harry swatted her hand away. He scratched the back of his neck and diverted his gaze, “I just don’t see why tonight’s a big deal.” 

Harry’s comment was a white lie and both of them knew it. 

George Mason and the rest of his family were due to come over for dinner that evening. The tree trunk of a man was Robin’s newly promoted partner at the firm. With unsubtle hints from his parents, Harry understood that George had an eighteen year old daughter and that was the real reason for the whole ordeal. 

“You know _exactly_ why tonight is important,” His mother emphasized with a calculatedly raised eyebrow. She pointed towards the doorway, “Now get goin’ or you won’t be ready in time.”

Harry begrudgingly sighed, but nodded nevertheless, “Yes, ma’am.” 

Tinny music reverberated throughout the main floor and Harry began his trek towards the second story. As far as he was concerned, the plantation was an oversized estate that had too many rooms and too many paintings. It felt big to Harry when he chased Gemma through the halls as a child and then it felt massive when she left to New York with her husband Jimmy Finn. Polished furniture was placed on polished floors by hired workers when the Styles’ decided to move down south. 

Harry trudged up the grand staircase, his fingers mindlessly tracing along the ornately carved maple railing. His bedroom was on the second floor, three doors down to the right. Similar to the rest of the plantation, his bedroom was lavishly decorated. The walls were painted emerald with white and gold detailing along the trim. Along the far wall, two windows were framed by lush curtains that costed his father a pretty penny. The view from the windows overlooked a floral garden. Much to his parent’s chagrin, the blooming garden was the only part of the estate that Harry truly admired. 

Crossing over the freshly waxed floors, Harry stopped in front of a mahogany wardrobe. He wrapped his fingers around two brass knobs and hauled the doors open. With a hand rested on the dip of his waist, he looked over the different sets of suits his mother had recently gotten pressed. Different fabrics were orderly hung by color and if someone had asked Harry for an opinion, he would have said it was all a bit much. 

Eventually, he decided on a three piece charcoal suit and then made quick work of getting changed. Once the vest was securely buttoned and the ivory collar of his dress shirt was straightened, Harry pulled out a red bowtie from the bottom dresser. With an ease that came from years of attending formal events, he fastened the satin bowtie underneath his collar. 

Adjoined to the bedroom was a private bath. Harry’s shoes scuffed against the white and black checkered flooring as he walked towards a vanity hung above a pearly sink. After straightening the knot of his tie, Harry twisted off the lid to a carton of matte wax and got to work on styling his hair. Once his chestnut curls were slicked back into something that his mother would deem acceptable, Harry gave himself a final check in the mirror. His cheeks were sun-kissed from golf lessons earlier and the bags underneath his green eyes seemed more prominent than usual. With a slight shrug, he turned away from the mirror and walked back to the bedroom. 

Two garish flashes of bright lights seeped through his windows and bled into the bedroom. Harry wrested his palms against a windowsill and watched a pair of headlights pulled into the end of their drive. The familiar rumble of a car muffler echoed through the glass, slightly shaking the panels with the abrasive sound. He tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth as the canary yellow Duesenberg parked directly out front. 

Three people exited the car with a grandeur that rather suited a queen. Mr. Mason was a robust looking man with the face of a pug. Mrs. Mason wasn’t much of an improvement, spare the suit for a taught skirt and blouse. Slightly stumbling out of the back seat was a young woman who Harry assumed to be their daughter, Faye. She was slighter than her parents and dressed in a black dress that hit just above the knee. 

Harry strode down the stairs in time to see the front door being pulled open. He elongated his spine, pulled his shoulders back, and moved to stand next by his father’s right side. Harry monotonously listened as the two families greeted each other, chancing a glimpse towards Faye. The petite blonde with narrowed features was already scrutinizing him. Her brown irises peered from underneath heavy eyelids and her rosy lips were slightly quirked. 

Faye had a bit of a reputation in Dahlonega. It was a reputation that Harry had no intentions of adding to. The slogan that went around town was, “If you ever need a lay, better call Faye.” A part of him toyed with the idea that she had come up with it herself in hopes of rebelling against her strict upbringing. He winced when she fluttered her eyelashes and shifted his gaze towards Mr. Mason. 

“Mr. Mason, pleased to see you again,” Harry politely greeted with an outstretched hand. 

“Harry Styles,” Mr. Mason throatily chucked, clasping Harry’s hand in his meatier one. He exuberantly shook their hands, “Pleasure as always.” Mr. Mason let go of Harry and gestured towards Mrs. Mason, “This is my lovely wife, Mary.” 

Harry gently shook her hand, “Pleasure, Mrs. Mason.”

Her face screwed into a far too pleased grin, “Oh, what a charmer you’ve got, Anne!” 

Harry internally rolled his eyes, unsure how a polite greeting qualified him to be called a charmer. He mentally braced himself as he turned towards Faye’s expectant gaze. 

“You must be Faye,” He nodded his head and faintly shook her hand. “Lovely to meet you.”

She swayed forward and tightened her hold, “Pleasure is all mine.”

Harry uncomfortably laughed and slipped his hand from her grip. When Anne started to lead them towards the dining room, he subtly wiped his palm against his thigh. He steeled himself with a deep inhale and followed behind the small group with his hands clasped behind his back. 

The rest of the evening was filled with stuffy conversation and a three course meal brought out by the cook and various housekeepers. Harry felt passive through it all. From time to time, Mr. Mason would include him in the conversation, asking about his future plans to work at the firm one day. He nodded and replied politely, “Sounds like that’s the plan.” 

Faye sat across the dining table from him and Harry did his best to avoid making eye contact. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t seem that she appreciated the way he was acting. It became a bit obvious when she traced her toe against his shin with a huffy exhale. Harry had shifted his leg to the side, but it kept happening. Multiple times. Three times, to be exact. 

It wasn’t that Harry was a rude person, he was just uninterested. 

Proudly placed in the foyer of the plantation, was a grandfather clock. Anne had gotten it from her mother as a wedding gift and it was arguably her favorite possession. Harry was busy counting the peach painted flowers on the wall behind Faye’s head when the clock rung out nine chimes. He bit the inside of his cheek at the realization that the Masons had been there for three hours. 

Mr. Mason was wrapping up a story about a brothel and a poltergeist when Harry leaned forward and cleared his throat. All eyes were immediately on him, each watching him as if he was about to say his first profound thought of the evening.

“Sorry to be rude,” Harry’s eyes darted between his parents and then pointed glanced at the clock, “I actually need to be headed out now.”

Anne turned around and craned her neck to see the face of the clock. Her eyes squinted to read the time and Harry’s leg started to jiggle underneath the table from impatience. 

“Is that really the time?” She chuckled with a hand over her heart. “Harry here,” Anne proudly gestured towards him as if they were all meeting for the first time, “Is playing at The Cotton Club tonight. We’re very proud of him. He took lessons and all that for years!” 

“Good for you, Son,” Mr. Mason approvingly nodded. He held up his hands, “Never played an instrument myself, Mamma always said it was a waste of time.” Mr. Mason lowered his hands with a shake of his head, “Whad’ya play?”. 

“Piano, Sir,” Harry replied. When his mother subtly widened her eyes, Harry awkwardly cleared his throat and continued, “Been taking lessons since I was tall enough to reach the keys.” 

“Well, isn’t that just lovely,” Faye purred as she nudged Harry’s shin again. 

“On that note,” Harry mumbled and pushed his chair away from the table. “Dinner was lovely,” He stood up and gave a tight nod to everyone, “Company even lovelier.”

He slipped on a fake smile and started to back out of the room with his hands folded in front of him. Just before he passed the doorway, Robin quickly whistled. Harry bit back a groan and turned to look at his father. 

“Harry, how about you bring Faye with you to the club?” Robin mused, looking incredibly proud of himself for the idea. 

Actually, everybody aside from Harry looked pleased with the idea.

“Oh, uh…” Harry gaped. He tried to stutter out a laugh, “I don’t think she would want to. I mean, I’m gonna to be on stage and barely dancin’.” 

Harry’s palms started to go clammy and his throat was closing up. He hoped that he didn’t look as panicked as he felt, trying to keep a practiced smile stretched across his face. 

“Nonsense, I’d love to,” Faye chirped with a flick of her wrist, already pushing her chair back. 

His mouth open and closed a few times as if he were a beached flounder, trying to find any words that would make her stay. With one look at his father, he knew that it would be useless. Harry could probably say the club had been set on fire and his father would suggest that Faye accompany him to get a bucket of water to douse the flames. 

Faye stepped by his side and urged, “We leavin’?” 

Doing his best not to sound put out, Harry mumbled, “Yeah.” 

They traipsed through the foyer and Harry grabbed his set of keys off of a hook by the coat holder. He opened the front door and gestured for Faye to step outside. Hearing muted laughter pitter from the dinner area, Harry let out a sigh and pulled the door shut behind him.

Outside, crickets loudly chirped and a smatter of stars looked as if they were dancing along the black mass above. The temperature had cooled significantly in comparison to the afternoon heat and Harry probably would have felt revived if it wasn’t for the girl trailing behind him. 

“Where’s this club anyways?” Faye asked, quickening her steps to match Harry’s gait. When he didn’t immediately answer, she carried on, “I’ve been wantin’ to go dancin’ for weeks now, but Daddy never lets me go.” Faye let out a sharp laugh, “Probably cos I got in a bit of trouble when I didn’t come back ‘til early morning the last time I went.” 

Gravel crunched underneath his shoes as he strode towards a black truck parked in the drive. Harry hauled the door open for Faye and kept his eyes on the horizon. 

“It’s in town,” He dully answered, waiting for her to climb in before shutting the door behind her.

Harry and walked around to the driver’s side and quickly hopped into the car. He pulled the door shut and jammed his key into the ignition. The muffler loudly roared to life and Harry brought the truck out of park.

“You don’t talk much, do ya?” Faye asked when Harry pulled out of the drive. 

Harry took a left at the end of the road and started driving towards town. He had almost forgotten that Faye asked him a question, only remembering when he looked over the center counsel to see her expectantly staring at him.

“Um. Just more of a listener, I guess,” Harry answered with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Although he was being quieter than normal, Harry wasn’t exactly lying. He always preferred listening to people talk rather than being the one initiating conversation. It was a trait that his father berated him for, always saying that a true business man did the talking. 

“Well that’s just fine with me,” Faye reassured him even though he wasn’t worried in the slightest. She snorted, “Mamma always said I was a talker. When I was a little girl, she said that I would just go on and on to anybody with two ears. Apparently, when I was six…” 

And that was where Harry had stopped listening. He nodded his head here and there, laughed when he assumed she was telling a joke, and murmured, “Oh I bet” from time to time. 

By the time they parked at The Cotton Club, Harry was almost positive that Faye had told him her entire life story. Even though he barely had said anything, he was inexplicably exhausted from being alone with her. Harry always thought of himself as a people-person, but he greatly questioned that from single car ride with her. Finally putting the car in park, Harry pulled the keys out of the ignition and shoved them in his front pocket. He climbed out of his seat, locked both doors, and walked to the front entrance with Faye unnervingly close by his side. 

Music blared from the amplifiers inside the club and Harry could feel his stomach twist in knots as he watched different people disappear through the entrance. Clouds of tobacco smoke created a hazy atmosphere, causing Harry to subconsciously feel for his silver lighter that was nestled in the breast pocket of his jacket. When he was younger, his father told him that, “A true gentleman always carries a light.” Harry rarely smoked and it was always a bit ironic seeing as how he was to inherit a tobacco firm. 

Everyone that passed by the pair looked fantastic. Men wore their best suits and women were draped in their finest dresses. Friday nights in town were what people looked forward to all week long. It was the one night where kids were left at home, strangers met in dimly lit passageways, and music had the ability to bring people to life. It was the one night that Harry could break away from his regular academic schedule that was designed to make him a successful business man. 

“Harry!” The doorman greeted when they made it to the front of the club. 

“Paulie!” Harry crowed back before shaking the man’s hand. 

He was obscenely muscular and Harry heard from someone that he had been working the front of the club for the past decade. Somewhere along the way of Harry showing up every week, they had kindled a bit of a friendship. Well, they knew each other’s names and Harry counted that as a personal victory.

“Just Paul, Harry,” The burly man rolled his eyes. “And who is this lovely?”

“Oh, right,” Harry muttered, temporarily forgetting Faye’s existence. He jutted his thumb towards her, “This is Faye.” Faye smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but Harry was in a rush so he cut her off, “Anyways, best be gettin’ in and help set up.” 

Paul nodded and gestured for them to go inside. Harry had only taken a few steps inside the club before Faye wrapped her hands around his bicep, her fingers digging into the material of his suit jacket. Internally combusting with something just short of disdain, Harry continued to lead them inside. 

The inside of the club was impressive to say the least. A long bar lined the far left wall, assorted liquors and draft beers ready to be consumed by paying customers. Circular tables with crimson tablecloths framed the expansive dancefloor. The bandstand was showcased at the back of the club, beaming lights directly shimmering over the extravagant stage. An array of instruments shined brilliantly and Harry’s fingers twitched as his eyes roamed across a sleek onyx piano. Thick red curtains draped along the side of the stage and behind them were the performer’s dressing rooms. 

Harry led Faye to the bar and raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention. “Alright, just tell him to put any drink you want on my tab,” Harry told Faye as he tried to delicately pull his arm from her grasp. “I need to go back there and get ready.” 

“Oh, you can’t stay for a bit?” She whined with an exaggerated pout of her bottom lip. 

He tugged his arm away and uncomfortably shoved his hands in his pockets, “Afraid not.”

“Alright, well,” Faye lamely shrugged. She swiftly rocked forward and pecked Harry on the cheek, pulling away to murmur, “Find me after.” 

Irritation fumed inside Harry’s bloodstream when he touched his cheek and pulled his hand away to see red lipstick on his fingertips. Not bothering to verbally respond, Harry curtly nodded and made a quick beeline to the men’s bathroom. He started to wipe off the waxy substance with the back of his hand as he pushed his way through a swinging wooden door. Stepping in front of a mirror, Harry groaned as he saw red streaks smudged over his left cheek. 

He rolled his eyes and gruffly muttered, “Shit.” 

“Whoa there, Stud. Don’t want the missus to find out?” 

The man to Harry’s right was looking at him with amusement while he washed his hands in the sink. He stood a few inches shorter than Harry and was probably the only man in the club not dressed in a suit. In addition to a red bandana wrapped around his neck, he wore a white long-sleeved cotton shirt. The top three buttons were undone and his sleeves were rolled up towards his elbows. A pair of well-worn suspenders held up his dress pants and on his feet were scuffed black shoes. 

“Not even close,” Harry laughed as he turned back to the mirror and continued to rub the irritated skin. “Got set up on a date and she’s a bit, um, _different_.” 

“Don’t think she’ll like it much if you scrub all that off,” The other man leisurely shrugged. 

As the lipstick continued to spread over his skin, Harry whined, “Seeing as how I’m supposed to be on stage soon, that’s the least of my worries.” 

He gently scoffed, “Performer, huh?” 

Harry glanced over and saw the man take his bandana off with a smirk. He ran the material under the running faucet and put a dollop of soap on it. Turning to face Harry, he expectantly held out the bandana. 

“Take it,” He pushed the material closer to Harry. “It’ll work better than whateva you were gonna do.”

“You sure?” Harry hesitantly asked, looking between the soapy bandana and the man’s face. 

He rolled his eyes and laughed, “I’d hope so since I already did it. Just take it.” 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled and he took the bandana, turning back forwards to wash off the remainder of the lipstick. 

“Good luck out there,” The man drawled as he walked towards the door. 

“Wait, I still have your –” Harry started, but was cut off.

“Keep it,” He looked over his shoulder at Harry and flashed him a quick smile. “Seems like you’ll need it more than me, Stud.” 

The other man left and thankfully, Harry was able to get the last bits of red off of his cheek. As he walked out of the bathroom, Harry stuffed the bandana in his back pocket and mentally prepared to go up on stage. He had gotten the gig a few months back when the former pianist moved away to some other city. The band held open auditions and Harry felt like he was going to pass out from nerves up until the moment he sat down at the stool. Before the audition, the only person who heard him play was his parents and piano instructor. 

Harry pushed through a mass of people until he reached the back stage area. He looked at the clock hung on the wall and saw that he had five minutes until they needed to be out. The crew rushed around him, carrying mics and tuners as they did last minute checks. 

“Well look whose lazy ass finally showed up.” 

Niall Horan was leaning against the brick wall with a bottle of scotch in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. The best way Harry could describe Niall, was that on one hand, he was a brilliant performer. On the other hand, he was a sarcastic bastard. Niall had been playing banjo for the band for almost two years when they first met. Apparently, Niall had noticed that Harry kept coming to the club to listen to the music rather than dance with any of the girls. He ended up calling Harry out on it after one of their sets and told him that he should audition the following Spring. 

Harry rolled his eyes and held his hand out for the bottle of scotch, “Yeah, yeah. I was just a bit preoccupied.” 

Niall handed over the opened bottle and Harry took a swig, smacking his lips as the auburn liquid ran down his throat. 

“Preoccupied?” Niall waggled his eyebrows. He knocked the toe of his shoe against Harry’s, “Is that what we’re callin’ it these days?” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Faye Mason and her parents came over for dinner tonight and now she’s here.”

Niall’s eyebrows shot upwards as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You sir,” Niall punctuated with a firm grip on Harry’s shoulder, “Are finally gonna get laid.” 

Harry shrugged off Niall’s hand and took another swig before passing the bottle back, “Hate to break it to you pal, not all of us are only focused on getting laid.” 

Niall groaned and rolled his eyes, “One of these days, you’re gonna meet a pretty lil’ thing and then you’ll be changin’ that answer.” 

Since they met, Niall had been making it his own personal project to get Harry a girlfriend. At the beginning, Harry even went along with it. He attended multiple double dates that Niall had somehow managed, but they all went to shit rather quickly. Each of the girls either tried too hard or they were clearly interested in the large sum that Harry would inherit one day. Eventually, Harry just lost interest all together and he stopped turning up. 

“Band, get on stage now. Startin’ in two!” The club owner yelled backstage. 

Niall took one last puff and then stubbed the butt of his cigar in a nearby ashtray. The other members of the band starting walking, a few offering waves towards the pair. Harry could hear a roar of applause from beyond the curtain as he followed suit and stepped onto the stage. 

Overhead lights poured down on the stage and Harry had to blink a few times to adjust. A crowd gathered towards the lip of the stage, men and women eagerly watching at the musicians took their places. Harry flattened his palms together and slightly arched his back, generally greeting the room before getting settled at the piano bench. Harry tuned out the rest of the band warming up their instruments and started to run through a few bars, channeling all of his focus on the fingerings.

When the band leader, Nicholas Grimshaw, walked out with his white baton in hand, the crowd erupted in applause. He was a handsome man with plenty of charisma and had founded the band four years prior. Harry monotonously listened as Nicholas warmed up the crowd before they began playing. It was the same shtick almost every time that they performed, but the audience loved it. 

Harry ran his fingers over the keys without pressing down and looked out over the packed dancefloor. He scanned through the crowd for Faye, guiltily hoping that she already left. Unfortunately for him, he caught sight of her as she eagerly pointed back at him. Harry frowned in confusion when he saw Faye lean over and talk to the same man that had lent Harry the bandana. He had a mischievous smirk as he listened to whatever Faye was saying and Harry felt nerves tug at his gut.

He was aware that the band was about to begin their first number, but he kept watching Faye and Bandana Man. Harry was waiting for a sign that he had told Faye what Harry said in the bathroom, looking for any indicator as she talked. It didn’t happen though, the only development was that Bandana Man glanced towards Harry and shot him a quick grin. Harry averted his gaze when they locked eyes and just barely hit his cue. 

Forgetting Faye and the other guy, Harry allowed himself to drift away in the music. The only thing that really registered to Harry when he played, were the other members of the band. He didn’t register the audience or the applause after every number. Instead, he just focused on the keys in front of him. 

After their hour long set, they band was done. Everything went smoothly and the energy of the crowd was still high. Harry stood up from the stool and stretched out his back before bowing with the rest of the ensemble. He shuffled off the stage to the sound of applause and met Niall backstage. 

“Wanna get a drink?” Niall immediately asked once his banjo was safely in its case. 

“Please,” Harry eagerly nodded. He frowned as they walked out towards the dancefloor, “I have to find Faye, though.” 

Niall nudged him with his elbow and started towards the bar, “Think I saw her somewhere by the end of the bar.”

They pushed their way through the crowd and Harry politely smiled when a few patrons clasped him on the back. Through the throng of people, Harry caught sight of Faye with her hip rested against the bar. She was still animatedly talking to Bandana Man and when her eyes landed on Harry, she eagerly waved him over. 

“You were so good, Sugar!” Faye preened with an excited clap of her hands.

“Thanks,” Harry tightly grinned, eyes falling on the man across from her.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when Niall slung his arm around his shoulder. Niall beamed at the group as if they were all close friends. Bandana Man looked back at Harry and there was an almost smug countenance playing at his lips as his eyes lingered on Niall’s draped arm.

“Oh, Harry!” Faye exclaimed and rested her hand on the Bandana Man’s shoulder, “This is Louis.” 

“Nice tuh meet you,” Niall extended a hand and grasped Louis’. “Niall Horan, Lawyer.” 

“Louis Tomlinson,” He shook Niall’s hand. His nose scrunched, “Um, Mechanic.”

“Hear that!” Faye leaned in closer towards Harry. She giddily said, “He’s a mechanic, isn’t that just adorable?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together as he looked back at her, “Not the word I would have used for a mechanic.” 

Louis cocked his head to the side, attention on Harry, “And what word would ya have used?”

“Dirty,” Harry answered without thought. When Louis’ eyes widened, Harry embarrassing flushed and rushed out, “Not that you are! I mean – Um, grease?” Louis started to laugh as he helplessly rambled on, “There’s a lot of grease so you probably get dirty, right? But, uh, you’re clean now.” 

Harry ducked his head down and winced when the other three started to laugh. He shrugged Niall’s arm off of his shoulders and self-consciously folded his arms over his chest, refusing to meet any of their eyes. 

“Shit,” Niall cackled and clapped Harry on the back. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard ya talk in one go.”

Faye chimed in, “So he don’t talk much to you either?”

“This is my dear buddy, Harry Styles,” Niall brashly said, gesturing between Harry and Louis. “You’ll have to forgive ‘im, he’s not the best with new people.” 

Louis’ eyebrows shot upwards, “Styles?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He already knew Louis’ next question, so he sighed, “And yes. Styles, like the cigar.”

“Holy, shit!” Louis laughed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Your family makes a good smoke.” 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, always feeling uncomfortable when people recognized his family’s name. He cleared his throat and quickly changed the topic, “Who wants a drink? Gonna get myself a Southside.”

Niall eagerly chirped, “French 75, extra lemon juice.” 

“Bee’s Knees,” Faye batted her eyelashes. 

“Right,” Harry coughed and turned towards Louis. “What d’you want?”

“Don’t worry,” Louis waved him off. “I can get my own.” 

“Harry is our little trust fund baby,” Niall easily laughed and shook his head. He nudged Louis’ side, “He’s got the money for it, pal.” 

It wasn’t a lie, far from it, but Harry still felt uncomfortable under Niall’s statement. 

“Um,” Harry scratched the back of his neck, “He’s right. I mean, I don’t mind.”

“Hardly breakin’ the bank for him,” Niall tacked on.

Louis frowned at Niall and slowly shook his head, “I’ll get my own.”

Harry’s jaw slightly dropped and he scrutinized Louis’ face, already preparing for him to change his mind about paying. Niall started up a conversation with Faye, leaving Harry and Louis to turn towards the bar. Louis rested his forearms against the wooden lip and gestured towards the barkeep. Harry cautiously stepped forward and mirrored Louis’ position. 

“What can I get for you, doll,” The bartender asked, her eyes landing on Louis. 

Louis held up his index finger, “One Highball.” 

She nodded and glanced at Harry, “And for you?”

“French 75 with extra lemon, Bee’s Knees, and a Southside.” 

“Coming right up, gentlemen,” She grinned and then shuffled behind the bar to prepare the drinks. 

Louis glanced over his shoulder then back at Harry, “How’s the date going?”

Harry couldn’t help the frustrated groan that slipped out of his mouth, instantly making Louis laugh in response. He shook his head and rubbed a hand over his face. 

“She’s awful.” 

Louis snorted, “She’s not _that_ bad.”

Harry expectantly lifted an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Really?”

A toothy grin stretched over Louis’ mouth, blatantly trying to stifle a laugh. 

“You’ve talked to her,” Harry lowered his voice, “Admit it.”

A sharp laugh shot out of Louis, instantly breaking his composure. The skin by his eyes crinkled and his teeth dug into the plush of his lower lip. Louis slowly nodded and schooled his face into an apologetic expression. 

“She is a bit miserable to talk to, isn’t she?” Louis breathlessly huffed out. 

Harry bashfully admitted, “I was hoping she was gonna leave during the set.”

“Some date you are,” Louis nudged Harry with his elbow. 

“Hey,” Harry drawled out and nudged him back, “I’m an excellent date. She’s just an awful match.”

“That so?” Louis challenged. He rolled his fingers in the air, “Is it that you’re interested in a different gal?”

Harry frowned, “Definitely not.”

Louis’ eyes brightened as he laughed out, “Why do you look so offended?”

“Everyone in this town is just,” Harry vaguely gestured with his hands for lack of a fitting word. 

Louis snorted, “Very specific, Stud.”

“ _Selfish_.”

“Selfish?” 

“Everyone is,” Harry went on to explain. He rested his hands against the bar and shook his head, “Everyone just wants money and doesn’t actually care about anyone but themselves.”

Louis humorlessly laughed, “Everyone, hmm?”

Harry’s snapped his head towards Louis at the bitter tone that laced his words. He shook his head and looked around before lightly clasping Louis’ elbow. 

“I didn’t mean you,” Harry quietly said. “I mean,” He hesitated before he continued, “You’re not selfish. You seem…Different.” When Louis didn’t immediately answer, Harry dropped his hand and stammered out, “I was just talking about girls though, yeah?”

Louis nodded and didn’t say anything as the bartender returned with their drinks. She placed four glasses in front of them and left two bills. Harry anxiously glanced at Louis, worrying that he just ruined a new friendship before it had even begun. 

“Um,” Harry coughed out, gaining Louis’ attention, “Are ya sure you don’t want me to get it?”

Louis narrowed his eyes and pushed himself upright, “I can afford my own drink, Stud.” 

Harry blanched at that, “I didn’t mean –”

“Why didn’t you tell him to stop earlier?” Louis cut him off as he angled his body to completely face Harry’s. 

“Excuse me?” Harry tilted his head. 

Louis pointedly looked towards Niall, “You don’t like him telling people that you can pay for their drinks.” 

“Oh, uh,” Harry stammered, his fingers anxiously knotting together. He shrugged, “I mean, he’s _not_ wrong. I can afford it.” 

“So?” Louis slowly drawled out. He folded his arms over his chest, “That doesn’t mean you have tuh go an’ pay for everyone you meet.”

“I know that,” Harry rolled his eyes.

Louis cocked his eyebrow, “Do you?”

“Do you have a problem with me?” Harry defensively narrowed his eyes.

“No,” Louis answered and oddly enough, he sounded genuine. He shrugged, “Just tryin’ to figure you out.” 

“There’s nothing to figure out.”

“I hope for your sake, that’s not true.”

Harry made an affronted noise, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“If all you got is your daddy’s company, paying for your friends, and dating people you don’t care about,” Louis tilted his chin upwards and gave him a once over before finishing, “Well, then that’s a sad life.”

“You don’t know me,” Harry gritted out, stepping into Louis’ space. 

“No, I don’t,” Louis easily agreed and tossed two bills onto the bar.

Harry was in a daze as he paid for the three drinks. He hovered by the bar after he got his change, eyes frenetically darting towards Louis’ overly-nonchalant posture. When Louis moved to walk away, Harry wrapped his hand around Louis’ bicep to stop him.

“That’s not all I have,” Harry firmly told him. 

There was an inexplicable need to prove to Louis that he had more to him than the surface persona that people saw. He was more than a trust fund and for the first time, Harry wanted to prove it to someone. 

The corner of Louis’ mouth quirked into a smile, “Good to know, Stud.” 

Harry let Louis’ bicep go with a nod, not sure if he was reassuring Louis or himself. He looked back towards Niall and Faye before asking, “Are – Um, are you gonna stay with us a bit?”

Louis looked over Harry’s shoulder then slowly shook his head, “Not really my crowd, Stud.”

“Oh, okay,” Harry jerkily nodded, not fully understanding why he felt put out. 

“But, if you want to spend time with someone who isn’t selfish,” Louis started, pausing to put his hands in his pockets, “I work at the shop, Dempsey’s.” 

Harry nodded, feeling the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked his weight from his heels to the balls of his feel. Louis took two backward steps, his eyes trained on Harry’s before he took a sip of his drink and turned away. Harry watched as Louis snaked through the crowd, eventually losing sight of him when he made it to the dancefloor.

Shaking himself out of his brief haze, Harry grabbed their drinks and walked over towards Niall and Faye. He passed both of them their glasses and he realized that neither of them thanked him. It was something that Harry wouldn’t have usually thought twice about, but Louis’ words were still running fresh in his mind. 

“What happened to the mechanic?” Niall asked after he took a sip from his glass.

 _His name is Louis._

Harry shrugged, “Had to go.”

“Too bad,” Faye made a displeased sound. “He was a riot, wasn’t he?” 

Looking towards the direction of the dancefloor, Harry searched through the crowd for Louis. He sipped his cocktail and eventually turned back towards Faye’s expectant look. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. He looked down at his drink, “He’s somethin’ else.”


	2. Chapter Two

Harry woke up to the distinctive feeling that he was being watched. 

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Harry blinked open to see an orange tabby cat perched at the end of his bed. Her unwavering gaze surveyed him as if she was already aware of Harry’s internal turmoil from the prior evening. She meticulously crept over the thick duvet and sat directly on Harry’s chest, honey eyes flickering over his sleep rumpled profile. 

“G’morning, Tully,” Harry croaked out, earning himself a plaintive mew in response.

He scratched behind her soft ears and felt purrs reverberate into his touch. The sound of pattering footsteps echoed from outside of his bedroom and Harry figured he had roughly five minutes before he had to prepare to join his mother for breakfast. Slumping his head back into a pillow, Harry rolled through everything that had happened at the club. Particularly, his latest acquaintance named, Louis Tomlinson. 

Louis Tomlinson was an anomaly. He was blunt, brash, and slightly abrasive in his commentary. Harry knew that he had fully fed into every word that Louis shared, mulling over each sentence to create a mental anthology that he could revisit. It was as if there was an innate conception that all of Louis’ thoughts had potential to be tokens of brilliance compared to other’s views in their small town. He even toyed with the abstract idea that he could relate to the way Dorian Gray must have felt when he first met Lord Henry Wotton. It was an eye-opening and view shifting kind of meeting that the Dorian experienced when he met Henry. Of course, Harry wasn’t focusing on the eternal damning advice and lust-filled life aspects of the characters’ relationship. 

Regardless, just the few exchanged words between them created one of the most refreshing experiences Harry has had since his short-lived time a naïve kid. Harry hadn’t even realized that he had long lost his ability to be a true individual in a conversation between himself and a peer, truly letting go of pretense and formality that came along with his secondary name. Not that his parents would deem Louis as his peer, given social status and general lack of outstanding propriety. 

If Harry’s parents knew he spent the evening talking to a mechanic instead of the impending joint-heir to the company, they would have flipped their lid. When Louis disappeared for the rest of the evening, Harry quietly nursed the rest of his drink and let his gaze wander around the dancefloor from time to time. He chalked it up to the fact that the conversation between Faye and him was impeccably dull in comparison to Louis’. Even Niall didn’t last much longer once the three of them were on their own. 

At the end of the evening, being the gentleman he was, Harry drove Faye home. Once he was parked at the end of her drive, he barely managed to evade her attempt at a kiss on his cheek. When she let out an affronted huff, Harry insisted that he wanted to treat her like the lady she was. In all honesty, Harry just wanted to get her out of his truck. But, he also didn’t want word to get back to his parents that he was a poorly behaved date. So, he lied. 

Tully batted Harry’s cheek with her paw, pulling him out of his headspace. He scrubbed a hand over his face and begrudgingly sighed. She cocked her head to the side and swished her tail before she let out a demanding meow. 

“Okay, okay, m’ getting up,” Harry huffed out when the cat impatiently swatted him once more. 

Harry took a bath, scrubbing of the night before with lavender scented soap. Once he was clean, Harry tugged on a pair of tan trousers and secured a brown buckle through the belt loops. He pulled an olive colored button-down from the wardrobe and made quick work of shrugging it on. Tucking the hem of his shirt into his trousers, Harry walked across the bedroom towards a pair of discarded shoes. He slipped his sock-covered feet into the polished loafers and then opened his door. Tully kept close to his heels as he descended the staircase towards the dining room. 

When Harry entered the room, he was immediately met with the smell of eggs and honey-glazed ham. His mother sat by the head of the table with an opened newspaper in front of her, eyes darting over the list of wedding announcements. He crossed the floor and stopped by her side, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She made a pleased hum and leaned into the touch before looking away from the paper. 

“Good morning,” Anne chirped as Harry strode towards the opposite side of the table. 

He pulled out a chair and mumbled, “Morning, Mama.”

“How was last night, dear?” 

“The performance went pretty well,” Harry shrugged. His eyes brightened when he tacked on, “I didn’t mess up the fingerings or anythin’ even though the bassist was throwin’ off the tempo.”

“That’s lovely,” Anne despondently said. She took a sip of coffee from a ceramic mug, “And how about Faye?”

“What about her?” Harry’s eyebrows pinched together. 

Anne shot him an unimpressed look, “What’d she think of your playin’?”

Harry suspiciously cocked his head to the side, “Thought it was fine.”

“Good morning,” A member of the wait staff, Martha, pleasantly greeted Harry. She set a plate in front of him, identical to his mother’s, “Would you like coffee or tea with breakfast today, Sir?” 

Harry shot her an appreciative smile, “I’ll have – ”

Anne promptly cut Harry off with an authoritative tone, “He has a big day today and we need him awake.” She pointed towards her own cup of coffee, “He’ll have a black coffee, Martha.” 

“Of course, Ma’am,” She nodded and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

Harry frowned at his mother, “Big day today?” He fidgeted with his cutlery, “What’s today?”

The corner of Anne’s mouth curled into a smile that created a sinking feeling inside of Harry’s gut. 

“Your father arranged a date for you and Faye Mason.”

Harry dropped the knife that was in his hand, the metal loudly clashing against his plate. Anne jerked back at the abrupt sound, her well-manicured hand placed over her heart. He felt bile rising in his throat and his palms turned clammy. Harry gaped back at his mother and started to insistently shake his head. 

“I – No,” He shakily stuttered out. Harry roughly ran his fingers through his hair, “That’s really not necessary, Mama.”

Anne narrowed her eyes, “And why is that?”

Harry flailed his hands out in front of him, “She’s awful and –” 

“Watch your mouth, young man,” Anne threateningly pointed her index finger at him.

“Not to mention it wouldn’t be fair to her,” Harry continued to ramble. He scratched the back of his neck, “Givin’ a girl hope that it could lead to something when it won’t?” Harry shrugged, “That’s not very fair.” 

Anne shook her head with a smile plastered on her face, “What’d you mean it won’t lead to something?” She let out a faint laugh and leaned forward with her hands clasped on the table, “Of course it will, dear.” 

“What?” Harry reared back. 

“You two are an excellent match,” Anne said as if she was discussing the weather instead of Harry’s future. She ate a forkful of eggs and then cleared her throat, “She’d make a lovely partner for you.” 

Harry disbelievingly laughed, “Are we even talking about the same person?” 

“Don’t be rude,” Anne snipped before taking another bite. 

Martha walked back into the room with a steaming cup of coffee and set it down in front of Harry. He stared at the cup with his jaw hung loose, eyes unseeing as his mother’s words rolled through his head. Harry felt his throat constrict and every bit of him wanted to run out of the estate.

“I – I don’t even like her,” Harry looked back at his mother. 

Anne set her fork and knife down, “What’s that got to do with it?”

“What’s that – Are you serious, Mama?” Harry blanched. He slightly raised his voice as he continued, “That’s not what you told Gemma when she started seeing Jimmy!”

“It was different for your sister.”

Harry clenched his jaw, “It shouldn’t be.”

Anne cocked her eyebrow, “She’s not the one inheriting the firm.”

He pushed his chair back, “I’m not gonna marry Faye if that’s what you’re intending on happening.”

“Don’t be selfish,” Anne straightened her spine, shoulders pulling back.

Harry humorlessly laughed, “I’m being selfish?!” 

“Yes,” She stood from her own chair. Anne gripped the lip of the table and lifted an eyebrow, “Your father and I have given you everythin’. This home, a place at the company – ”

“I never asked for that!” Harry cut off his mother and stood from his seat. He shook his head, “I didn’t ask for the business.”

Anne’s expression darkened, “You better not breathe a word of that nonsense to your father.”

“But –”

“Not a word, Harry,” Anne gritted out. She stood upright and folded her hands over her chest, “You are going to dinner at Blossoms tonight, you will be the perfect gentlemen, and you will thank your father for going through the trouble of arrangin’ it.” 

“I –”

Anne started towards the doorway, “You’ll be pickin’ Faye up at five, not a minute after.”

Just before she was gone, Harry quietly exhaled, “Do you really hate me so much that you’d force me into this?”

His mother faltered in her step and stopped to turn around. She sadly shook her head, “I wish you’d see this is what’s best for your future, Harry.” 

Not even waiting for a response that Harry probably couldn’t give, Anne walked away. Harry felt frozen in his spot, eyes locked on the place where she previously stood. Within twenty-four hours, his life had been completely altered and he felt untethered to everything around him. He didn’t move for about ten minutes, not until the sound of a returning pair of heels sprung him to action. 

Harry darted out of the dining room and quickly yanked his keys from their hook. He disappeared out of the front, hearing a faint call from his mother before the door slammed into its frame. The Georgian sun bathed him in an irritable light as he jogged over to his truck. Harry hauled the driver’s door open and slipped onto the leather seat. Slotting a key into the ignition, Harry quickly drove away from the estate. 

His heart was pounding inside his chest and his bottom lip was nearly raw from being worried between his teeth. There wasn’t even a destination in mind as he drove underneath a canopy of lush trees that lined both sides of his street. Harry turned onto the main road and drove in the direction of town, his eyes wildly flitting over the view. He jerkily stopped an intersection and thrummed his fingers over the steering wheel. 

Looking from left to right, Harry tried to decide which direction to go. When he looked back towards his right, his eyes caught onto something that was discarded onto the passenger seat. Harry reached over and grabbed the folded red bandana. After a moment of just blankly staring at it, he fisted the material in his hand and took a quick left onto East Cherry Street. 

About half of a mile past The Cotton Club, Harry stopped outside of a three-door garage. With his eyes on a suspended sign labeled, _Dempsey’s Automobile Hospital_ , Harry pulled into the gravel covered parking lot. His chest was heaving with labored breaths as he put the truck into park. Pocketing his keys, Harry deeply inhaled and opened the car door. 

Pebbles crunched underneath the soles of his shoes as he walked towards the building. Men in navy coveralls strolled by the open doors and Harry craned his neck to see if he recognized any of them. Before he took a step closer, a man materialized towards his left. 

“Can I help you, Sir?” 

Harry snapped his head towards the approaching man. He had thick black hair that was pushed back from his forehead with matte wax. The visible stretches of his olive skin was smudged with grease and he was leisurely rotating a wrench between his fingers. The man tugged a yellow bandana from his breast pocket and wiped off the beads of sweat from his face. 

“I was actually looking for someone who works here?” Harry meant to say as a statement, but it came out sounding like a question. 

The man gave Harry an unnerving once over, his amber eyes unwavering as he jutted his chin upwards. When Harry didn’t say anything, he pressed, “And…Do you know the name of the mechanic?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Harry quickly said, feeling a flush rise along his neck. “M’ looking for –”

_“Harry?”_

Harry looked over the man’s shoulders and felt a smile twitch at the corner of his mouth. Louis was walking out of the second garage door with a surprised grin playing over his lips. 

“Him,” Harry pointed at Louis and looked back at the other mechanic. 

The mechanic looked between the two of them and slowly nodded before turning back. He gripped Louis’ shoulder and leaned in to whisper something by Louis’ ear. Louis rolled his eyes at whatever the mechanic said and then nodded. Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, curiosity ebbing at him when the other man walked back inside. 

“Well, this is a surprise,” Louis drawled out once he stood in front of Harry. 

There was a line of grease along Louis’ cheekbone and his hair was parted into a loose quiff along the right side of his face. Harry noted that Louis looked in his element at the shop, coveralls hugging his slighter frame and red bandana tied around his neck. 

“Hi,” Harry slightly waved. 

“Hello,” Louis chuckled. His attention flickered towards Harry’s truck, “Everything alright with your ride?” 

“Oh, um,” Harry glanced at his truck that was in perfect condition. He considered saying that something was wrong with it just so he had a better excuse for showing up. “Well,” Harry sighed and faced forwards towards Louis’ expectant gaze, “Yes.”

An impish glint crossed over Louis’ eyes and he folded his arms over his chest. His hip cocked to the side as he crossed one foot over the other. Harry glimpsed at the garage, his brows furrowing when he saw the mechanic with raven hair watching them.

“Then what brings you here?”

Harry looked back at Louis and nervously scratched the back of his neck, “Sorry to just come by.” He pointedly looked over Louis’ shoulder, “I know you’re workin’, but you said to come by here if –”

“Are you okay?” Louis promptly cut him off, concern dimming his smile. 

Harry’s gut reaction was to lie, but Louis was the first person to ask him that question in…Possibly, _ever_. Louis was also the first person to look at him as if he genuinely cared what Harry’s answer was going to be. Harry closed his mouth and dropped his gaze to the ground. He shook his head and stubbed the toe of his shoe into the gravel. 

“Not particularly,” Harry quietly mumbled. 

“Okay,” Louis pensively nodded and looked towards the garage. He jutted a thumb behind him and turned back to Harry, “Well, I’m workin’ on a car now.” 

“Right,” Harry rushed out and tightly smiled, “Sorry to be a bother. I’ll just –”

Louis breathed out a laugh and gripped Harry’s forearm, “Would you just hold on a mo’?” His nose wrinkled as he grinned at Harry, “I hadn’t finished what I was gonna say.”

“Oh,” Harry shakily exhaled bit the inside of his cheek. 

“I was saying, I’m workin’ a car now, but I’m almost done,” Louis’ fingers slipped from Harry’s arm. “You can just sit with me while I finish, then we can get outta here.” 

“Okay, yeah,” Harry tentatively smiled. “I would have just gone to Niall,” Harry fidgeted with his hands and huffed out a small laugh, “But he would have called me a fruit or somethin’ like that.” 

“Right,” Louis awkwardly cleared his throat and looked down at Harry’s arm. “Oh, shit,” He winced and unknotted the bandana from his neck, “M’ sorry ‘bout that.” Louis handed him the cotton fabric and chuckled, “Bit of an occupational hazard.”

“M’ sure it’s not the only one,” Harry laughed as he took the bandana and started to wipe the grease off his forearm. 

Louis snorted and took a step backwards towards the garage, “You’re not wrong.”

Harry stepped forward and passed the bandana back to Louis, “Do you just have an endless supply of these?” 

“Yes,” Louis deadpanned and then turned on his heel. 

Harry grinned and followed Louis into the garage. There were three cars loaded inside, each one gutted open as different men worked around them. He kept relatively close to Louis as they snaked through, doing his best to avoid getting in the way of the mechanics. A radio system was perched on top of a metal desk by the far right corner, muffled music barely audible over the sound of tools and chatter. 

“Hope you don’t mind gettin’ a bit dirty, Stud.” 

“Excuse me?” Harry squeaked, slightly faltering in his step. 

“This is basically a grease shop,” Louis picked up a tire and set it by the side of the first car, “You’re gonna get those nice clothes of yours dirty.” He challengingly raised an eyebrow, “Unless, that’s a problem for you?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Just because I don’t work on cars, doesn’t mean that I’m afraid of a bit of dirt.”

“Excellent,” Louis smirked. He patted the lip of the tire, “You can sit there.” 

Harry sat down on the tire and wrapped his arms around his knees. He appreciatively looked over the cobalt blue car that was parked in front of him, the paint somehow shimmering even in the grime covered garage. The convertible top was pulled back, showing off the sleek onyx leather seats. Louis laid down on a wooden dolly and slid underneath the body of the car with ease.

“What kind of a car is it?” Harry asked after a moment of just metal clanking against metal. 

“She’s a twenty-seven Talbot AG. Model 14/45,” Louis voice filtered from beneath the car. “Six-cylinder. Pretty good shape, overall.”

“So, um,” Harry hesitated, feeling extremely out of depth, “What’s wrong with it?”

Louis grunted something unintelligible before he said, “Transmission error.” 

Harry tried not to roll his eyes because that didn’t help him understand at all. When he didn’t answer, Louis popped his head out from underneath the car and smirked at Harry.

“Gear failure happens cos of a transmission error,” Louis explained.

Harry gestured for him to continue, “Which means…” 

“The gears aren’t turning smoothly,” Louis rolled his fingers through the air, “So, I’m replacing ‘em.” 

Harry nodded in understanding as Louis went back underneath the car. He looked around the shop to see five other men working between the other cars, all slicked with grease and sweat. None of them seemed to mind the mess and Harry figured that they were probably immune to it by that point. Aside from dropping off his truck once for dent repair, Harry had never been inside a garage before. It was like stepping into a different world compared to Harry’s, one filled with threatening looking appliances and lack of general hygiene. 

“Hey, Stud,” Louis called from under the car. His hand was blindly reaching towards a metal toolbox, “Grab me a slip-joint, will ya?”

Harry looked at the box and gaped at the different tools that were piled inside. He turned back towards Louis’ expectantly upraised palm and couldn’t help the sharp cackle that came out of his mouth. 

Before he could think better of it, Harry sputtered out, “What the fuck is a slip-joint?” 

A surprised laugh tumbled from beneath the car’s body and Louis was quickly rolling the dolly back. His eyes were full of amusement as he looked back at Harry with raised eyebrows.

“Look who has got a mouth on ‘im after all,” Louis shook his head and climbed off the dolly. He rifled through the box and help up a pair of pliers, “These, you un-educated boy, are slip-joint pliers.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m plenty educated,” Harry defended himself. 

Louis gave him a once over before snorting, “Educated in things that don’t really matter.”

Harry gaped at Louis, “That was rude.” 

“That,” Louis emphasized by knocking the pliers against Harry’s calf, “Was honesty.” 

“Was not,” Harry snuffed. He pointedly looked at the car, “Don’t you have gears to be fixin’?” 

Louis grinned at him and nodded, “I do.”

Harry watched Louis slide back under the car and managed to wait about one minute before asking, “How’d you even learn about all this, anyways?”

“My cousin worked on cars before he was drafted,” Louis told him. There was a huffy grunt and a ping of metal before he continued, “Spent a lot of time with ‘im at his shop. Just picked it up, I guess.” 

“Was your father a mechanic?”

“Don’t have one.”

That caused Harry to let out an incredulous laugh. 

“What?” He shook his head even though Louis couldn’t see him, “Everyone has a father, Louis.”

“Yeah, well,” Louis puffed and pushed himself out from under the car, “I don’t.” 

Harry frowned at that, but he swallowed back a retort as Louis unzipped his coveralls and let them pool at his feet. His eyes widened and he swiftly looked around the shop to see that the other mechanics were completely unaffected. Apparently, near nudity in public was normal for them. Harry flushed and stared at his shoes as he waited for Louis to change. 

“Ready?” 

He looked up to see Louis tugging a knit page-boy cap over his hair. Instead of the coveralls, he wore tan trousers that were held up by black suspenders. Louis’ chest was covered by a well-worn Henley, the material stained with dirt and grease. He was expectantly staring at Harry as he cuffed the material up to his elbow. 

“Yeah,” Harry jerkily nodded. He pushed himself up from the tire, “Where’d you wanna go?”

“Toss me your keys,” Louis nodded towards the garage door, “I’ll drive.” 

“Um,” Harry hesitantly started towards the exit, “My father doesn’t really like other people driving the truck.”

Louis rolled his eyes and kept walking until he was at the driver’s side of Harry’s truck. He rested his weight against the hood and crossed his arms. Harry stopped just in front of Louis, a few feet of distance separating them. 

“Well, I don’t see your father here,” Louis pointedly looked from left to right before meeting Harry’s eyes, “Do you?”

“Are you mocking me?” Harry bristled. 

“I’m not,” Louis easily said. 

“Sounds like you are.”

“Harry,” Louis huffed, “I work with cars for a livin’. I think I can handle driving your truck.”

“But –”

“Tell me somethin’,” Louis cut him off and tilted his head to the side, “Do you trust me?”

“I –” Harry hesitated a moment when Louis lifted an eyebrow. He thought it through and minutely shook his head, “I don’t know if I do.” 

Harry gnawed on his bottom lip, expecting for Louis to tell him off and send him on his way. What he didn’t prepare for, was Louis to nod and gently clasp Harry’s shoulders. 

“Fair enough,” Louis quirked the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to be scared to be honest with me, y’know?” He sincerely said and let go of Harry’s shoulders. Louis gave him a small shrug, “Especially cos it seems like you can’t with anyone else.”

Harry just gaped as Louis plucked the keys from his hand and unlocked the door, sliding behind the steering wheel without another word. Louis brought the engine to life and gestured for Harry to get in the truck. He looked around to see if anyone had seen the exchange, half expecting to see the raven haired mechanic lurking by a garage door. When he recognized that it was just them in the lot, Harry walked towards the passenger side and clambered in.

Louis pulled out onto the main road and thrummed his fingers over the gearshift. Harry tensed each time that the truck got closer to another car, mentally preparing a speech for his father as to why his truck got totaled by a mechanic he barely knew. He glimpsed out the corner of his eyes and watched Louis’ relaxed composure as he drove them towards the edge of town. 

“Where are we goin’?” Harry asked when Louis veered off of the pavement and onto a dirt road. 

Louis glanced at Harry and he winked, “You’ll see.” 

“How enigmatic of you,” Harry snorted.

“Big word for a kid,” Louis teased. “Did you learn that from one of your ten tutors?” 

“I’m eighteen,” Harry sat up straighter in his seat and petulantly crossed his arms. “I’m hardly a kid anymore.” He scrunched his nose in distaste, “And I don’t have _ten_ tutors.” 

“That so?” Louis cocked his head to the side. He made a left and then a swift right, “How many then? Just five?”

Harry bit back a smile and looked outside the window, “Not gonna tell you.”

“Oh my god,” Louis crowed, whipping his head from the road to Harry. “Is it five? Do you have five tutors?” 

“M’ not saying anything,” Harry attempted to school his expression into something more displeased. When Louis started to cackle, he groaned, “Shut it.” 

“That’s rich,” Louis snorted. “Quite literally.”

“How old are you, anyways?” Harry pressed, choosing to overlook talking about his well-tended to education. 

“Twenty-two.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “Really?”

Louis put the truck into park and looked over at Harry, “Is that a problem?”

“Should it be?” Harry cheekily countered. 

“I don’t think so.”

“Me neither.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “Come on, Stud.” He opened the driver’s door and jumped out, “We’re here.” 

Harry slowly climbed out of the truck, eyes wide as he looked over their destination. The dirt road ended at a barricade made up of billowing willow trees. A small path peeked through two of thick trunks, the subtle breeze lolling the limp branches into a gentle sway. Moss crept along the base of the willows, painting them in lush green until it melded into the bark. Blackbirds swooped between the trees, singing melodies that resonated like a lullaby. Every intertwined note urged Harry closer to the path as if he was in a trance. 

“Louis,” Harry quietly said, scared that he would disrupt the almost ethereal setting if he was too loud. He shook his head in disbelief and looked at the other man, “This is amazing.”

“You haven’t even seen the best bit,” Louis took three steps towards the path. 

Harry traipsed after Louis as they walked along the dirt path. He extended his hands by his side and danced his fingers between the swooping branches. Louis glanced over his shoulder, the skin by his eyes wrinkling from the smile that bloomed over his expression. 

Louis abruptly turned around and Harry nearly knocked into him, his hands wildly flailing out to keep his balance. A blush flushed along his neck as Louis tilted his head back and laughed. 

“Close your eyes,” Louis told him once he had finished laughing at Harry’s misfortune. 

Harry’s nose scrunched, “Why?” 

“It’ll be better, okay?” Louis urged. He carefully rested his hands on Harry’s biceps, “I’ll make sure ya don’t fall.” 

Harry’s suspiciously narrowed his eyes, “Is this a trick?”

Louis frowned at that, “Why would I trick you?”

“I dunno,” Harry mumbled, taking a quick look around. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want,” Louis told him. He looked over his shoulder and turned back to Harry with a small smile, “I just think it is better when you see it all at once.” 

Harry looked over Louis’ expression for any trace of dishonesty, but all he saw was earnestness and a touch of giddiness. He carefully nodded and closed his eyes, choosing to rely on someone he barely knew. Louis’ hands trialed down and gripped the crooks of Harry’s elbows. 

“Okay, just hold on to me,” Louis instructed. 

“Don’t, um,” Harry cleared his throat. He pinched his eyes shut, “Don’t tell anyone ‘bout this.” 

Louis was quiet for a moment before he murmured, “I won’t.” 

Harry felt a bit of tension leave his body as he blindly gripped onto Louis’ arms. Louis slowly led him forwards, telling him when to lift his feet higher because of downed branches. He followed every direction, finding himself trusting Louis more and more with each assured step. When the bottom of his shoes touched a firm surface, his mouth turned downwards in confusion. 

“I’m gonna let you go, but don’t open your eyes yet.”

“Okay,” Harry slowly released his grip as he felt Louis step back. 

He could hear Louis shuffle around him, the soles of his shoes scuffing against whatever they were stood upon. Harry’s bottom lip was trapped between his teeth and he hesitantly lowered his hands to his side. Louis gripped his shoulders and slowly angled his body to the left.

“Okay,” Louis quietly said. His hands dropped from Harry’s body, “Open.” 

Harry blinked his eyes open and he instantly clamped a hand over his mouth at the view that came into focus. 

They were stood on a dock that extended into a small lake. Pine and maple trees aligned the water’s basin, kissing the lip of the lake with their roots. A collection of boulders trailed along the water’s edge, each rock glistening underneath the soft beams of the suspended sun. A songbird dipped into the enclosed space, the surface of the pond mirroring every flutter of her wings until she perched herself on a sturdy branch. Every organism was illuminated with lush greens and oranges. Harry supposed it was the purest embodiment of life that he would ever get to experience. 

“What’d you think?”

Harry turned to face Louis and just shook his head, unable to formulate words that could possibly describe how he was feeling. 

“Yeah,” Louis huffed out a laugh, “That’s kinda how I was the first time I saw it, too.”

Louis carefully walked around Harry, stopping at the edge of the dock. He kicked off his shoes and socks before sitting down. His legs dangled off the last wooden plank and his back was arched over to get a look at the surface. Harry toed off his shoes and tugged off his socks, discarding them on the dock. He sat down next to Louis and cuffed the hem of his trousers before slowly swinging his feet over the water. 

After a few moments of nothingness, Louis asked, “Do you wanna talk about what’s going on with you?”

Harry rested his weight back onto his hands and kept his eyes on the horizon. He watched the songbird freely soaring through the trees, living untethered and unbothered by the world around it. A heavy exhale pushed itself from his diaphragm. 

“I have to marry Faye.” 

“Marry her?!” Louis’ eyes practically bulged out. “I thought you just met her yesterday?”

Harry humorlessly laughed, “I did.”

“But – I mean,” Louis shook his head, “Why d’you have to?” 

“Her daddy is partners with mine,” Harry quietly explained. He glanced at Louis to see him already looking back with a frown etched over his face. Harry shrugged, “Apparently. that makes us a good match.” 

“Romantic,” Louis snorted under his breath.

Harry rested his back flat against the dock, “Innit?” 

“Is it –” Louis started then cut himself off. 

Harry lolled his head to the side to look up at the other man, “Is it, what?”

Louis looked down at Harry, “Is it that you’re in love with another girl?”

“Christ, no,” Harry’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “Definitely not.”

“Why d’you sound so offended at the idea?” Louis laughed out, leaning back to mirror Harry’s position. 

“Everyone here,” Harry weakly gestured his hand in the air, “Is plain. And just, I dunno, generally horrible to be with.”

“Jeez,” Louis scoffed, “Tell me how you really feel, Stud.”

“I didn’t ,” Harry turned to look at Louis, the corner of his lips turned downwards, “ _You’re_ not like that.” He lowered his voice, “You might actually be the only genuine person here.” Harry instantly blushed at the implication of his words and cleared his throat, “I was just talkin’ about girls. Like, romantically speaking.” Harry wrung his hands together, “I didn’t mean that in a – Well, you know.”

Louis pushed himself back to a sitting position, “Don’t worry, Harry, I’m not gonna call you a fruit.” 

“Right,” Harry awkwardly mumbled. He fidgeted with the material of his shirt, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Louis looked over his shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. 

Harry sat upwards and rested one back on the dock, “D’you have a girlfriend?” He bumped Louis’ shoulder, “Maybe even a mechanic’s wife?” 

Louis huffed out a laugh and shook his head, turning away from Harry.

“What,” Harry pressed and knocked their knees together, “You don’t bring all the blushin’ ladies here?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but no,” Louis pulled the knit cap off his head. He ran his fingers through his slightly matted hair, “You’re actually the first person I’ve showed this place to.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “Really?”

Louis nodded and leisurely swayed his feet over the pond’s surface. 

“Oh,” Harry dumbly said after a moment, not sure how else to respond. 

Before he could think too far into it, Louis turned to him with concern coloring his irises. 

“What’re you gonna do about Faye?” Louis asked. 

“What’d you mean?” 

“I mean,” Louis held out his hands in front of him, “Are you gonna marry her?”

Harry slightly narrowed his eyes, “I don’t exactly have a choice in the matter, Louis.”

Louis shook his head with a dumbfounded expression, “Course you do.”

“My parents have expectations for me,” Harry rushed out, starting to feel defensive. 

“And?”

Harry straightened his back, “And as their son, I have to meet those expectations.”

“As their son,” Louis enunciated, “They should want you to meet your own expectations.”

Harry frowned, “What does that even mean?”

“That means, it’s your life and you should be livin’ for yourself.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Louis laughed, the column of his throat extending as he lolled his head back. 

“Are you laughin’ at me?” Harry turned his body to fully face Louis. 

“I am,” Louis panted once he calmed down enough to speak. 

“You’re rude.”

“And you’re too concerned with what people think.”

Harry pulled his knees to his chest, “Are you gonna try and tell me that you don’t care about your parents’ expectations?”

“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”

“But,” Harry eyes widened, “How can you just not care?!”

Louis shrugged, “My mama wasn’t supportive of me. I chose not to care and I left.”

“You left?” Harry cocked his head to the side. “Left where?”

“Savannah.”

Harry gawked at him, “Why’d you leave?”

“I told you,” Louis trialed his finger over the dock, “Mama and I didn’t see eye to eye.”

“What happened?” 

Louis sighed, “That’s a story for anotha time, Stud.”

“No,” Harry insistently said. He expectantly widened his eyes, “You heard about what I’m goin’ through. Now you tell me your story.”

“And why would I do that?” Louis looked up at him. 

“Why?” Harry dubiously laughed. “Maybe cos that’s what friends do?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Louis’ mouth, “We’re friends now, hmm?”

“Well, I mean,” Harry stammered and looked away.

“Relax,” Louis nudged Harry’s foot with his own, “I was just playin’.”

Harry picked at a piece of lint on his trousers, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” Louis lowered his voice and tentatively tapped Harry’s knee. When Harry looked at him, Louis apologetically smiled, “Sorry, sometimes I don’t really think ‘bout what I’m saying.” 

Harry noncommittedly hummed. 

Louis sighed, “Mama didn’t approve of who I was datin’. That’s why I left.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he snapped his head back towards Louis, “Really?”

“Really,” Louis slowly nodded, a frown tugging at his mouth. 

“Who was the girl?” Harry carefully asked. 

Louis bit the inside of his cheek before he answered, “Riley Callahan.” 

Harry’s brows pinched together, “And you’re not together anymore?” 

“Nah,” Louis shook his head. He bitterly coughed out, “They turned out to be different than what I thought.” 

“M’ sorry,” Harry quietly mumbled. Louis shrugged his shoulders and when he didn’t respond, Harry asked, “Do you regret leaving home?” He fidgeted with his fingers, “Y’know, since it didn’t work out.”

Louis met his eyes, “Not at all.”

“But –”

“Just because it didn’t work out,” Louis gently cut Harry off, “I still got to make my own decision.” 

“So you think I should just run away?” Harry humorlessly laughed out. He scratched the back of his neck, “I can’t do that.”

Louis shook his head, “I don’t think that.” He lifted his shoulders, “Unless that’s what you actually wanna do.” 

“It’s not.”

“Then don’t,” Louis grinned. “Besides,” An impish glint flicked over his features, “M’ glad you don’t wanna leave.”

Harry slowly grinned and titled his head to the side, “And why’s that?” 

“I wouldn’t want you to go just yet,” Louis shrugged and winked at him, “As I might miss you.”

“Louis Tomlinson, are you being nice to me?” Harry teased, resting his chin on his propped hand. 

Louis tilted his head from side to side, “Just once.”

“You’re an ass,” Harry laughed. 

“Swearin’ suits you,” Louis noted with a fond grin.

Harry ducked his head down and scratched his chin, “Mama hates it when I swear.”

“Lucky for you, it’s just me,” Louis grinned. He leaned forwards and fake-whispered, “M’ not exactly a blushin’ virgin, you’re allowed to swear in front of me.” 

“You’re not a virgin?” Harry instantly rushed out. He winced when Louis let out a sharp laugh, “I mean – Sorry. That was a personal question.” 

“So is every other question you’ve asked,” Louis countered. He shook his head, “But, no. I’m not.”

“Oh,” Harry slowly nodded as he digested the information. 

“Are you?”

Harry opened his mouth and closed it, making a noncommittal noise. His fingers twitched as he reached into the pocket of his trousers. Pulling out a gold pocket-watch, Harry looked at the glistening face for the time. 

“Oh, fuck,” Harry exhaled, quickly pushing himself to his feet. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “We have to go.”

Louis frowned, “I didn’t mean to offend you.” He got to his feet and tugged his cap back over his head, “I mean…It’s okay to be a virgin.”

“God, just – _No_ ,” Harry waved him off. He started tugging on his shoes, “M’ late.”

Louis slipped on his socks, “For what?”

Harry winced, “My date.”

“Oh,” Was all Louis had to say. 

They rushed back towards Harry’s truck and he didn’t even think twice before shoving the keys into Louis’ hand. Louis pulled out of the clearing and started back towards the shop. Harry anxiously scrubbed a hand over his face and kept checking the time. He was already twenty minutes late. 

“Mama is gonna kill me,” Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

Louis sped up and glanced over at Harry, “How late are you gonna be?” 

“By the time I was meant to get to the Mason’s,” Harry checked his watch again, “Nearly an hour.”

“Shit,” Louis exhaled. His fingers quickly pattered against the steering wheel, “Wait.” Louis looked over the center counsel, “I have an idea.”

“What?”

Louis swerved into the shop’s lot and parked Harry’s car along the siding. He got out of the car and wildly gestured for Harry to do the same. 

“I’ll drive you home and we can just say you got in car trouble,” Louis quickly explained as he jogged towards a green Chevrolet. He unlocked the door, “Gives you a good excuse and I’ll be there so they don’t think your lyin’.”

“That – Louis, that’s brilliant,” Harry beamed and climbed into the passenger side. 

“Thanks,” Louis puffed out on a laugh. He pulled back onto the main road, “Where’d you live?”

“Plantation by Osler Street,” Harry told him, gesturing for him to turn right. 

Louis snorted, “Course you do.” 

Louis sped the entire way back Harry’s home, neither of them talking aside from directions. When they pulled into the drive, Harry groaned when he saw the Mason’s canary Duesenberg parked out front. They hurried out of the car and Harry turned back around on the top step. Louis reared back, nearly falling over.

Harry tugged the red bandana that was still in his pocket from earlier and without much thought, wiped it over Louis’ cheek. He caught the grease smudge that lined Louis’ sun-kissed skin. Louis’ eyes were wide, but he didn’t move until Harry wordlessly stepped back. 

“Thanks,” Louis murmured, taking the bandana back from Harry. 

Pushing open the front door, Harry automatically recognized that his parent’s voices were ringing from the parlor. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and then stepped inside the small room. Louis was a few paces behind him, hands shoved into his pockets. 

His mother and father were on the left couch and Mr. Mason, Mrs. Mason, and Faye were slotted on the opposing couch. All five of them snapped their attention towards the entryway when the floorboard creaked underneath his feet. 

“Harry!” Anne exclaimed, instantly standing from the pearly couch. She glowered at him, “Where have you been?”

“Pardon, Ma’am,” Louis slightly raised his hand and stepped forwards. He looked at Harry then back to the room, “I might be able to explain that.”

“Louis?” Faye perked her head forwards, sounding a bit too eager judging by her mother’s scolding glare. 

“Who’re you?” Anne asked, hey eyes judgmentally running over Louis. 

“Louis Tomlinson, Ma’am,” Louis introduced himself. “Harry got in car trouble so I helped him push it to the shop I work at.”

“The car?” Robin asked, standing from his seat. His mustache twitched above his lip, “What happened to the car?”

“Nothing major!” Louis pacified him. “Just needed a jump.” He jutted his thumb towards Harry, “Harry said he had an important date to get to, so I offered to keep the truck at Dempsey’s overnight and drive him myself.” 

“Oh,” Anne exhaled, looking instantly less threatening. She waved her hand over her shoulder, “Robin tip the mechanic.”

“His name’s Louis,” Harry muttered under his breath. 

Louis subtly shot Harry a thankful smile before he shook his head.

“That’s alright, Ma’am,” Louis insisted as he took a step backwards. “Just happy to help.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Harry quickly said when his mother opened her mouth again. 

Harry waited until they were outside to let out a sound of relief. He slumped against the front door, “I owe you.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis shrugged. He started down the main steps, “I’ll bring the truck over tomorrow mornin’.”

“Louis,” Harry called out, stopping the other man in his step. He ran a hand through his hair, “Thank you.” Harry slightly shrugged, “For everythin’ today.”

Louis softly grinned and tipped his head forward, “Good luck in there, Stud.”

Harry stood on the front stoop until Louis pulled out of the dive. He even waited an extra minute longer before pulling his shoulders back and going inside. Pushing thoughts of the pond from his mind, Harry plastered a fake smile on his face and entered the parlor.


	3. Chapter Three

“You’re up awfully early this mornin’, young man.”

Harry sat down across from his mother and his eyes flickered toward the window pane behind her. The drive was still empty, his truck missing from its usual place. Harry tugged on the cuff of his white button-down, making sure that his attire was in order. He politely nodded to Martha when she placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. 

“M’ always up in the mornings,” Harry shrugged, resolutely staring at his bowl as he spooned a mouthful of oatmeal. 

“Harry,” Anne set her coffee mug down, “The sun isn’t even up.”

A blush colored his cheeks and he noncommittedly shrugged once more.

“Are you nervous about your date later?”

Harry slightly choked on his breakfast, his eyes enlarging while he pounded a fist against his chest. Anne gaped at her son as he roughly cleared his throat.

“Nervous?” Harry weakly laughed. He cleared his throat once more, “Why would I be nervous?”

Anne gave him a calculated look, “Because you’re already wearin’ your dress clothes and fussin’ over your cufflinks.”

Harry flushed and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He lifted a shoulder, “M’ not nervous.”

“If you wanna go out earlier,” His mother flicked her fingers in the air, “I’m sure I could have a luncheon arranged instead of a dinner.”

“No, no, no,” Harry quickly stammered out, his fingers gripped around a polished spoon. He flinched at his own forcefulness and dropped the utensil, “I mean – I don’t even have my truck back yet.” 

Anne frowned and turned around to look out the window as if to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Oh, I forgot all about that,” She laughed to herself. Anne shook her head with a grin on her face, “You can borrow my car, dear.” 

“But,” Harry scrambled for words, not even sure why he was determined to get the truck from Louis himself. He scratched the back of his neck, “Wouldn’t it be rude if I wasn’t the one to get the keys from Louis?”

Anne’s nose scrunched in confusion, “Who’s Louis?”

“Um…The mechanic?”

“Right,” Anne rolled her eyes. “So, a luncheon?” She steamrolled on, “I can give Blossoms a ring.” 

“Mama, no,” Harry slowly said. He wrung his hands in his lap, “I wanna be here to get my truck.”

Anne made a noncommittal sound before she mused, “Dinner would be more romantic anyways, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t wait for Harry to open his mouth before continuing, “Candlelit dinner, maybe a stroll downtown afterwards?” 

“Sure,” Harry mumbled, fully knowing that he didn’t intend on going for a walk after enduring an entire dinner with Faye. 

His mother made a pleased sound and Harry found that he hated the almost smug tilt of her mouth. Harry fixed his lips into a tight smile and continued to eat, mentally warding off his mother from asking any other questions. The rest of breakfast consisted of Anne watching Harry over the lip of her coffee and Harry staring at the window behind her. 

When his bowl was cleared, Harry excused himself from the table with a muttered excuse. He strode towards the study and peeked inside, letting out an exhale when he saw that his father wasn’t inside. There was an impressive collection of books that lined the far wall, different colored spines uniformly organized in tight rows. His fingers danced over different titles before he stopped along a newer casing that was the color of cobalt. Carefully, Harry tugged _The Great Gatsby_ from its makeshift home and meandered towards the outside deck.

Suspended from the estate’s wraparound porch, was a swinging bench. Harry carefully sat down on the wooden seat and extended his legs along the surface. The bench gently swayed as the sun pierced the morning sky with warmth. Harry flipped open the cover of the book and made himself comfortable as his eyes began to rake over the printed words. 

Harry wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard a faint rumble pouring through the plantation. He snapped his neck towards the end of their drive and the corners of his lips subconsciously pulled upwards when his eyes landed on a truck. Harry could see the outline of Louis in the front seat, but his figure was slightly distorted by the glaring sunlight. Dog-earing the page he was on, Harry slowly stood from the swing and closed the book. 

Louis brought the truck to a halt and turned off the engine, throwing the world back into silence. Harry clambered down the steps of the porch with his book gripped in front of his chest, fingers anxiously thrumming over the cover. He stopped a couple feet from the driver’s door and waited as Louis popped out of the truck with a slight huff. The other man wore navy coveralls like the day before, knotted red bandana pushing his hair from his forehead. Harry frowned when he saw the purpling circles underneath Louis’ eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Harry asked before he could think better of it, blatant concern painting his tone. 

“Yeah,” Louis slowly nodded, a yawn breaking through his answer. He wiped a tired hand over his face and impishly smiled, “Was out late last night.” 

“Oh,” Harry looked down at the book still clasped in his grip. He tried for nonchalance, “Where were ya?”

Louis itched his neck with a fingernail and tilted his head to the side, “Got drinks with Zayn down at Old Dog.”  
Old Dog was a notoriously well-known blue-collar bar. Harry, never having worked a manual labored job in his life, had never been inside the supposedly dimly lit establishment. The hole-in-the-wall bar opened across the street from Blossoms four years prior, proving to be quite the scandal in the eyes of the uppity folks of town. Harry’s parents were included in that circle of disapproving Blossom patrons. 

Since the opening of Old Dog, Harry spent more than a few dinners watching the bar’s exterior from behind Blossom’s bay window. As Anne and Robin boisterously gossiped about the latest news in the social hierarchy, Harry stole glances at the roughed up men puffing cigars across the street. While grime covered their hands and tattered clothes, the men still managed to have juvenile grins plastered on their faces as they spoke. Robin would reprimand Harry for staring at the lower-class whenever he caught the direction of Harry’s gaze. 

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together, “Zayn?” His eyes darted towards the gravel drive as he kicked the toe of his shoe into the ground, “Different kinda name, innit?”

Louis slightly lifted his shoulders, “No different than being named Louis.”

“Are you two close?” Harry pressed, feeling oddly protective over his new friend. 

_Acquaintance_ , technically. 

“Yeah, we work together,” Louis folded his arms over his chest. He quirked an eyebrow, “You actually met ‘im yesterday.”

Harry frowned and thought back to the raven haired mechanic that watched him with a cursory narrow of his eyes. There was a slight tug inside of his gut at the memory of Zayn leaning in to whisper something into Louis’ ear. He nodded when he realized that Louis was watching him with a poorly concealed, amused expression.

“So,” Harry rocked his weight forwards, “Were you celebrating something or whateva?” 

A smirk jaunted the corner of Louis’ mouth, “Can’t a man get a drink without an actual excuse, Stud?”

Harry flushed and ducked his head down, “I dunno.” He wiped a bead of sweat off the back of his neck, “I don’t go out much.” When Louis’ eyes widened, Harry added, “Well, I go to the club, obviously. But that’s just to perform.”

“Hold on,” Louis slightly flailed his hands in the air, “Do you mean to tell me that you don’t go out drinkin’?” 

“Uh,” Harry drawled out, “Why would I do that?” 

Louis incredulously held out his palms, “Just cos you wanna?”

“I’m too busy,” Harry quickly deflected. 

“Too busy to do somethin’ fun?”

“Our ideas of what fun is, are different, Louis.”

Louis rested his back against the door of the truck, “Then what’s your idea of fun?”

“Piano,” Harry easily answered, stepping towards Louis’ left and mirroring his position against the truck. 

“Fair enough,” Louis exhaled on a small laugh. He craned his neck to meet Harry’s gaze, “Awfully lonely, though.”

Harry instinctively opened his mouth to argue, but shut it when the corners of Louis’ lips dipped downwards. He looked away from Louis’ unnerving stare and lightly thrummed his fingertips along the book in his grasp. 

“Maybe,” Was all that Harry could muster to mumble.

“Harry,” Louis quietly said, almost too tenderly for Harry’s comfort. He gently pressed his elbow into Harry’s side, “Are you lonely?”

He let out an affronted spat of laughter, “That’s awfully rude to ask.” 

Louis turned his body to face Harry, his arms folded over his chest. Harry kept his body angled forwards, avoiding eye contact during Louis’ following question. 

“Why did you come to the shop yesterday?” 

Harry self-consciously fidgeted in place, “I needed someone to talk to.”

“Cos you’re lonely?”

Harry whipped his head to the side and glared at Louis, “I’m not lonely.” He pointedly looked around the plantation, “Already got everything I need.”

Louis let out an unimpressed snort, “You have _things_ , Harry.” 

“And what do you have that’s so much better?” Harry incredulously asked. 

“My health,” Louis pointed towards his chest, “A roof tuh sleep under.” He dropped his hands to his side and lifted his eyebrows, “People who care about me.”

Not bothering to wait for a response, Louis rounded the truck and hauled a bike from the bed of the car. He steadied the bike between his hands and swung a leg over the seat. Harry rushed to the front of Louis’ bike and gripped the center of the handlebars, his thighs bracketing the tire. 

“Let go, Harry,” Louis sighed. 

Harry petulantly shook his head, “Why do you always have to insult me?” 

“D’you honestly think I’m around just to make you feel bad?” Louis narrowed his eyes. 

Harry’s hand tightened around the metal, “Sure does feel like that.”

“All I did was ask ya a question,” Louis rolled his eyes. 

Blood rushed to Harry’s cheeks as he quickly said, “An inappropriate question.” 

“Are you forgettin’ everything we talked about yesterday?” Louis disbelieving asked. “Fuckin’ hell,” He scrubbed a hand over his face, “All I asked was if you’re lonely.” 

“It was presumptuous and rude,” Harry bristled, his own anger egging itself on. 

Louis broadened his shoulders and gritted out, “So is the way you’re treatin’ the only person who seems to give a shit ‘bout you.”

Harry gawped at that, his hand slipping from the handlebars. He saw regret flicker over Louis’ face as he hung his head down, a heavy exhale puffing from his lips. Louis’ shoulders slumped and he looked back up to meet Harry’s gaze.

“That was out of line, I’m –”

“Thanks for what you did yesterday,” Harry coolly cut Louis off. He stepped away from Louis and expectantly held his palm out, “Keys?”

“Stud,” Louis frowned, “C’mon, just –”

“Don’t call me that,” Harry looked over his shoulder towards the estate. He saw the silhouette of his mother in the dining room window and rushed out, “Just give me the keys and you can go.” 

“All I’m tryin’ to do,” Louis slowly passed Harry the car keys, “Is understand you better.”

“Yeah?” Harry snatched the keys and bitterly snipped, “Well, don’t.”

Harry schooled his expression into blankness, something he had perfected over the years. Without another word, he strode towards the front steps of the estate. 

“Is this how you handle all your problems?” Louis called after him. Harry sucked in a breath as Louis continued, “Just walk away and act all fine when you’re not?” 

Hauling the front door open, Harry walked inside and shut it behind him. He momentarily paused with his back against the wooden surface before he rushed towards the parlor’s widow. Unceremoniously, Harry dropped his book onto the ground and pulled back the drapes a fraction of an inch. He looked outside to see Louis still standing in the drive. Harry’s fingers dug into the thick fabric and his lips parted. 

Louis stared at the estate with a frown etched into his face. He watched the front door as if he was waiting for Harry to come back outside. When Harry saw Louis tug his bottom lip between his teeth, there was a moment where he considered going back and apologizing. He knew that he was sensitive and had probably overreacted, but Louis’ words were still stinging inside his head. There was a sliver of a truth to them and Harry didn’t know how to even begin to grapple with it.

The echo of heels clattering across the floor pulled Harry from the possibility of changing his mind. His fingers instantly let go of the drapes. Harry snapped his head to the entrance of the parlor in time to see his mother strutting towards him.

“Everything alright dear?” Anne asked, feigning a concern that Harry suspected she wasn’t truly capable of. 

“Yeah,” Harry tightly nodded. He glanced towards the drapes and then stepped away, “Just fine.”

He kissed his mother on the cheek and hurried towards the staircase. With every step, his pace quickened, wonder growing inside his twisted gut. Harry pushed his way into his bedroom and traipsed towards the window. His hands gripped the windowsill while his eyes flickered along the drive. 

It was empty. 

Harry shut his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool glass, his breath fogging the window when he exhaled. His fingernails dully scraped down the window sill before he slumped to the floor. Curling his knees to his chest, Harry tried to work out why he bothered to care what Louis thought about him in the first place. 

Six hours passed and Harry never came to a conclusion. 

****

Not bothering to straighten his suit jacket, Harry rapped his knuckles against a crimson colored door. He took a step backwards and only had to wait a fraction of a minute before the Mason’s door was pulled open. A young maid stood in the doorway, blonde hair pinned into a neat bun and a polite smile pinned to her face. 

“Harry Styles,” He greeted, barely attempting to cover his miserable attitude with a smile. “M’ here to pick up Miss Faye Mason.”

“Of course, Sir,” She nodded and opened the door wider in invitation. The maid gestured for him to come inside, “Miss Mason will be down in just a mo’.” 

Harry nodded and stepped to the side of the foyer. His eyes raked over the entryway and he wasn’t slightly surprised to see that it was an almost perfect mirror to his own home. Everything was lavish and everything was useless. 

_You have things, Harry._

As Louis’ voice rolled through his senses, Harry clenched his hands into fists and dug his fingernails into his palms. His skin crawled with the innate desire to see Louis again, even if just for a handful of minutes. While he couldn’t reason his feelings, Harry knew that he had to speak to the other man before he was past the point of being forgiven for his behavior. With every passing hour of the day, Harry had a sick feeling that Louis was slipping out of reach. He was aware that he shouldn’t care about the friendship of a simple mechanic, but the sinking feeling of his gut was too intense to ignore or make sense of. 

“Harry?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Harry directed his attention towards the bottom of a pearly staircase where Faye was watching him with a questioning tilt of her head. A champagne colored dress hung from her slender frame, the thin material kissing the lip of the stair she was on. Teardrop pearls glimmered from her earlobes and a haughty rope of pearls was wrapped around her neck. Harry offered a tiny grin and slightly bowed his head in respect. 

When he lifted his chin, Harry mumbled, “Evening.”

A toothy grin spread over Faye’s mouth and then she was skipping over towards Harry. She circled her arm through Harry’s, promptly dragging him in the direction of the front door. 

“C’mon,” Faye urged with a whine, “We gotta hurry or Daddy will wanna talk to ya for ages.”

Harry kept his hands in tight fists and allowed Faye to tow him outside. Faye didn’t let go of his arm until he had opened the passenger door and ushered for her to climb in the truck. Steeling a breath and smoothing out the wrinkles from where she clawed his suit jacket, Harry walked to the driver’s side and clambered inside. 

The drive to Blossoms was filled with the constant buzz of Faye’s voice. Harry didn’t manage a single moment to interject fake commentary because Faye didn’t bother to let him. He wondered when she took the time to breathe, but thought better than to dwell upon it. Keeping his eyes on the road and replacing Faye’s voice with Louis’ from that morning, Harry drove them to the restaurant. 

“Can you just believe Bobby’s nerve, Harry?” 

Harry turned his head to the sound of his name to see that Faye was keenly staring at him 

“Wait, um,” Harry flinched at her pointedly raised brows, “Did you actually want me to answer that?”

“Are you payin’ attention to me?’ Faye rolled her eyes and unnecessarily swatted his shoulder. “He tried to take me on a date!”

Harry flinched at the weak slap and pulled into the filling parking lot attached to Blossoms. He turned off the engine and counted to five inside his head. 

“How dare he do that,” Harry droned, turning to look at Faye.

Faye beamed back at his blatant glower, “Exactly!” She dramatically huffed, “I mean, obviously you and I are goin’ steady now, so –”

“We’re _what_?!” Harry squeaked, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. 

“Don’t interrupt me, it’s rude,” Faye snipped and opened the passenger door to slip out. 

Harry gaped at the steering wheel, completely unsure how Faye thought that they were already in a committed relationship to one another. His knuckles were white as his grip was unforgiving along the wheel. He lolled his head back and spoke to a god that he didn’t necessarily believe in. 

“This is a test, isn’t it?” Harry dully asked the ceiling of his car.

“Harry!” Faye’s muffled voice pierced the inside of the truck. 

Harry groaned and turned to look outside the window. Faye was waving her hand in the air, attempting to get him out of the truck. A part of him wondered what would happen if he just drove away and left her there. Deciding that he didn’t want to face the wrath of his father or mother, Harry begrudgingly climbed out of the car. Faye intertwined their hands without preamble and Harry didn’t realize until they were at the hostess stand, that he hadn’t bothered to even curl his fingers around hers. 

“Mr. Styles, what a pleasure!” The hostess gushed, recognizing him immediately. She beckoned for them to follow, “We already have your table set.” With a wink over her shoulder, the hostess tacked on, “Best seat in the house, Sir.” 

Harry pointedly ignored the arrogant grin that curled Faye’s lips as they strode towards a table tucked by the bay window. Every time he had been to Blossoms, Harry and his family were sat at the same exact table. They wound their way through the busy restaurant, prominent members of society sending Harry smiles as they passed. He politely nodded but did not bother to stop for conversation. 

“Here you are,” The hostess gestured towards their table, resting two menus on the maroon linen. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Harry said, pulling out Faye’s chair before taking his own seat. 

Once a complimentary glass of merlot was poured in their wineglasses, Harry and Faye placed their dinner orders. Harry ordered tomato bisque and attempted to bite back a scoff when Faye coyly asked for the most expensive seafood platter on the menu. Raising their glasses together, Harry gave a non-heartfelt toast to their evening. Bountiful plates of food were presented in record speed and he asked for their waiter to bring out the full bottle of merlot. At some point, Faye grabbed Harry’s hand over the tabletop and hadn’t let go even though he continuously flexed his fingers. Dinner conversation consisted of Faye rambling about their future and Harry taking generous gulps of wine. 

Harry lowered his glass and dragged his fingertip over the tablecloth, his previously full soup bowl staring back at him. He glimpsed out the window and started to observe the people walking by. For a Sunday evening, it was remarkably crowded out on the streets of town. Harry watched a group of men in uniform pass a group of women in pressed dresses. One of the men with slicked back blonde hair took off his cap and nodded to a woman with strawberry curls. The corner of Harry’s mouth quirked into a private grin as they parted ways, both the man and woman stealing flirtatious glances over their shoulders. 

He was about to face forwards and at least pretend to be a good date when he caught sight of a familiar red bandana. Harry straightened his spine and dabbed his bottom lip with his tongue. Slowly meandering by the window was Louis and Zayn. There were a few other mechanics already strolling towards the entrance of Old Dog, but their quicker pace left the pair behind. 

Louis’ head was tilted back as laughter poured out of him, the skin by his eyes crinkling. Harry subconsciously tightened his hand around Faye’s at the sight of someone else making Louis look infuriatingly happy. It didn’t help matters that Harry seemed to have the exact opposite effect on Louis than Zayn did. Even though it was mostly Harry’s fault, the notion did not sit well with him. He wanted to make Louis laugh the way Zayn did. 

_Why do you even care?_

Harry shook the internalized question from his conscious as Louis turned to angle his body towards Zayn. Louis’ eyes skirted over Zayn’s shoulder and his step faltered when he made eye contact with Harry. Harry’s jaw tensed and he didn’t know what else he could do other than stare back at the other man. The light in Louis’ eyes dimmed when they skated over Harry’s hand clasped around Faye’s. For a reason that was unfathomable to Harry, the crease in Louis’ forehead was enough for him to jerk his hand out of Faye’s clutch. 

Faye made an affronted noise from the back of her throat, but Harry was watching still looking at Louis. Zayn followed Louis’ gaze and when recognition flashed over his expression, he wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders to mumble something by his ear. Louis nodded to whatever Zayn said and slowly turned away. Harry’s fingers dug into the table as he watched the two men crossed the street towards the bar’s entrance. 

Harry slumped into his seat as something close to helplessness pooled inside his chest. His eyes were locked on their retreating figures and he ignored Faye’s pointed kick into his shin. Just before Louis stepped onto the sidewalk, he shrugged off Zayn’s arm and spun back around. Harry quickly sat upright once more as if he had been electrocuted. Louis meaningfully tilted his head in the direction of Old Dog and crooked a finger towards his chest. Heat crept along Harry’s neck at the implication as Louis disappeared inside the entrance. 

“What’re ya lookin’ at?” Faye whined with obscenely needy inflection in her voice.

He slowly dragged his attention away from the window and shook his head, eyes darting from Faye’s entitled expression. He fidgeted a button along his shirt, his shoulders noncommittedly lifting. 

“Thought I saw someone I knew from the club,” Harry lied. 

“Oh,” Faye drawled out, seemingly pacified that Harry didn’t mention another woman. She toyed with her necklace, “In the mood for some dessert?” 

Harry chanced another glimpse across the street before he met Faye’s eyes. “Ya know,” He schooled a slightly pained frown on his face, “M’ not feeling too well, actually.” 

“Aw, you poor baby,” Faye immediately cooed and at her word choice, Harry nearly did feel legitimately unwell. She leaned forwards and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, “You do look a lil’ peaky.”

Forcing a cough out of his chest, Harry pathetically nodded. 

“Think we could just get the check?” He hopefully asked, jutting his bottom lip into a pout.

“Course, puddin’,” Faye chirped. She snapped her fingers in the air to get their waiter’s attention, “We can get dessert another time.”

Harry tried not to grimace, “Right.”

After paying without a glance at the price listed on their bill, Harry led them out of the restaurant. 

“You’re sleeping at Mary’s, yeah?” Harry checked, praying that he didn’t have to drive her back home. 

Faye nodded and stepped closer, her fingers snaking along the lapels of his suit. Harry slightly leaned his head back as she daintily patted his chest. 

“Too bad you ain’t feelin’ well,” Faye pouted. Her finger hooked inside his button down and suggestively tacked on, “We could have had some real fun before I went to Mary’s.” 

Harry awkwardly patted her shoulder, “Yeah, um,” he cleared his throat, “Dang.” 

Faye wolfishly smirked, “Next time for sure.” 

After taking three seconds to contemplate if that was enough time to stage his own death, Harry tightly nodded. 

“Good,” She easily said and rocked forward to her toes. 

Seeing the purse of her lips, Harry’s eyes widened and he whipped his head to the side. Faye’s lips smacked the corner of his jawline. 

“What’dya do that for?” Faye’s brows tugged together as she rested back on the soles of her feet.

“Um,” Harry feigned a weak cough, “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Faye’s irises practically glimmered in the faint moonlight, “You’re so sweet to me.”

“Am I?” Harry dubiously asked before he could help himself. 

She just nodded her head and stepped back, “You are.”

“Do you need a ride?” Harry changed the subject, fully knowing that Mary Hargreaves lived just two streets over. 

Faye waved him off, “Nah, I’ll just walk on over.”

“Did you want me to walk you?”

“I think I can manage,” Faye winked at him. She took two steps backwards and gave Harry a flirtatious wave, “Thank you for dinner, Harry.”

“Have a safe night,” Harry somewhat saluted. 

Faye spun on her heel and strolled towards the street, the material of her dress flowing in her wake. Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and waited until she was fully out of sight before looking across the street. There was a small crowd gathered by the entrance of Old Dog, cigars and cigarettes alike precariously dangling from the patron’s lips. The women wore simple dresses that were wrinkled to the point that Harry’s mother would have had a conniption at the mere sight. The men weren’t much better and Harry was acutely aware that he had zero chance of blending in.

Harry rushed to the truck and prayed that he had a spare set of clothes tucked away in the backseat. Unlocking the driver’s door, he heaved it open and promptly shrugged off his suit jacket. Tossing the material to the passenger’s seat, Harry’s eyes raked over the seats. A thankful whimper came from his mouth on its own accord when he saw a cream Henley shoved in the back. Unbuttoning his dress shirt and shucking it on top of the suit jack, Harry pulled the Henley over his head. 

Just as he moved to close the door, Harry saw a neatly folded bandana on the dashboard. A curious lilt played along his lips, knowing that he had returned the borrowed strip of fabric to Louis. Either the other man accidently left the bandana in the truck, or he genuinely wanted Harry to have it. After hesitating for a moment, Harry reached for the bandana and rolled it between his fingertips. Layering the folded material just past hairline, he knotted the bandana at the base of his neck. Harry checked the rearview mirror and couldn’t help but feel slightly pleased that he didn’t necessarily look horrible. 

Locking his truck behind him, Harry clasped his hands together and crossed the street. The group of people gave him a brief questioning look before politely nodding and picking up their conversation. Letting out a bated exhale, Harry reciprocated with a friendly smile. He queued behind two other men, both excitedly yammering about their shift at the local mill. Harry kept his head down, attempting to maintain a low profile as he waited to pass the bouncer. 

The burly man cocked his head to the side as asked Harry, “Identification?” 

Harry had hoped that it wouldn’t have been needed, but he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Slipping the man his card, he immediately averted his eyes towards a car passing by. There was a sharp inhale from in front of him and Harry winced, knowing that the man must recognize his second name. 

“Styles, huh?” The man disbelievingly puffed a laugh and shook his head. “Sure you’re in the right place, kid?”

He was acutely aware of the group’s conversation quieting and he didn’t need to turn around to know that they were watching the exchange. Harry wouldn’t have been shocked if they were smoking cigars that came from his family’s business. 

With as much confidence as he could muster, Harry pulled his shoulder back, “Yeah, I’m sure.” When the man just gave Harry a pointed once over, he added, “Um, I know Louis, Louis Tomlinson? He told me I was welcome here.”

Which wasn’t exactly a lie, but Harry figured it was worth a shot.

The bouncer surprisingly grinned and passed Harry his ID back, “Y’know Tomlinson?” 

“Yeah,” Harry quickly nodded, slipping the card back into his wallet. Just for good measure, Harry tacked on, “Good pal of mine, actually.”

“No kiddin’,” He wondered aloud. “M’ Jack, by the way,” The bouncer extended a hand to Harry, “Any pal of Tommo’s is good by me.” 

Harry genuinely grinned and shook Jack’s hand, “Harry, nice to meet you.” 

Jack nodded and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Better go see ‘im before he has too many Brooklyns.”

“Will do,” Harry pocketed his wallet and walked inside. 

The inside of Old Dog was entirely lined by red brick and Harry was almost taken aback by how many people were crammed into the dive bar. High-top tables dotted across the cherry wood floors and green lamps were sparsely hung from the ceiling. The lighting was dim at best and a thrum of music could barely be heard over the raucous tide of laughter. Harry skirted by the lip of a narrow bar and lifted himself to his toes to look across the space. 

A dimple dipped into his cheek when he caught sight of Louis’ profile along a billiard table. Louis’ spine was arched over and a mischievous smirk played across his mouth as he easily sunk a striped ball into a pocket. He straightened his back and whooped, Zayn materializing by his side for a high-five. The other player begrudgingly stepped away, Louis barely paying attention as he leaned back against the wooden lip of the pool table. 

Steeling himself a deep breath and wiping his slightly clammy palms over his trousers, Harry started to make his way through the bar. He shifted through the crowd, body twisting and turning but his eyes remained on Louis. Zayn was the first one to see Harry when he was not more than ten feet away. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Zayn whistled. 

Louis’ nose scrunched in confusion before he followed Zayn’s sightline. The moment that Louis visibly recognized Harry, his jaw slackened and his hands fell limp to his side. Harry pushed through the final group of people that parted them and stopped in front of the pair. 

“Harry, you –” Louis cut himself off with a disbelieving shake of his head. He looked over his shoulder towards Zayn and then back to Harry, “You actually came?’ 

“I, um,” Harry wrung his hands together and shrugged, “I owe you an apology.” 

Both Louis and Zayn’s eyes widened to a comical degree. In any other situation Harry might have even laughed. While Louis remained nearly petrified, Zayn slowly narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. Judging by Zayn’s reaction, Harry assumed that Louis had told the other mechanic what happened earlier that morning. He figured he deserved the pointed glare. 

After a moment of stuttered silence, Zayn clasped Louis on the shoulder and announced, “I’ll get another round and leave yuh to it.” 

With a final accusatory glower towards Harry, Zayn slipped into the sea of the crowd. Harry cautiously stepped closer to Louis, watching his expression for any blatant discomfort. He pushed his hands into his pockets and rocked his weight forwards. 

“I was outta line this morning,” Harry quietly admitted.

Louis tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth and rolled his eyes, “Ya think?”

“I know, I know,” Harry heavily sighed. He took another step closer, “I just got all defensive and took it out on you.” Harry scratched the back of his neck, “M’ sorry, Louis.”

“Look,” Louis exhaled after a moment, “I’m not trying to be some kinda pest in your life.” 

“You’re not,” Harry rushed out. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, “I was just being a difficult cos...Well, I’m not exactly sure why.” Throwing in a self-depreciative laugh, Harry said, “Guess you just hit the nail on the head. With the whole, you know, people not caring thing.”

Louis winced at Harry’s words, “That wasn’t right of –”

“I think I am lonely,” Harry cut Louis off.

Heat rose to the apples of his cheeks from the weight of the admission. He wasn’t even sure why was telling Louis anything in regards to his emotions. It wasn’t exactly normal behavior in a new friendship, or any friendship, really. Harry quickly looked around to see if anyone was listening, but there wasn’t a single person remotely interested in their hushed conversation. A slight tension was relieved from his body. 

Louis nudged the tip of Harry’s shoe with his own, “Just need to find the right person, yeah?”

“Got you, don’t I?” Harry weakly teased, testing out the waters whether he was forgiven or not. 

That pulled a small snort from Louis, the corner of his mouth lifting to a smile. 

“Yeah, sounds about right, Stu – Um, Harry.”

Louis looked away and picked up a nearly empty ale glass. He downed the rest of the amber liquid, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth afterwards. Harry heard the slight endearment on the tip of Louis’ tongue and hated just how much he missed it. What he hated even more, was he was the reason that Louis felt as if he had to monitor himself. 

“Um, y’know, if you still wanted to,” Harry rolled his fingers through the air as a flush painted his skin pink, “You can keep calling me Stud.” He looked down at the floor, “Kinda grew used to it.”

“Yeah?” Louis quietly asked. 

Harry silently nodded, ignoring the blood that was filling his cheeks. 

Louis’ teeth dug into his lip before he slowly nodded, “Alright, Stud.”

Harry’s nose embarrassingly scrunched and a weight felt as if it was lifted from his back. His eyes were downcast so wasn’t prepared for Louis reaching out to straighten the bandana still wrapped around his head. Harry’s eyes snapped up to see that Louis was directly in front of him as he adjusted the material. Louis’ breath fanned against the line of Harry’s jaw, sending a trill along his spine. 

“Hope you don’t mind I wore it,” Harry mumbled. He watched a grin ghost over Louis’ mouth when he continued, “Thought it would help gettin’ me in here.” 

“Probably did if I’m bein’ honest,” Louis told him, taking a step back to revive a more appropriate amount of space between them. “And I don’t mind,” He impishly winked, “Looks good on you.” 

An infuriating need to make a pleased sound filled Harry’s gut. He roughly coughed into the back of his hand and turned away to hide the grin that threatened to split his face. Harry knew that Louis caught him because when he chanced a glimpse towards the other man, a knowing smile was tacked on his face. Luckily enough for Harry’s wellbeing, Zayn returned with three full pint glasses between his hands. 

“Here ya go,” Zayn offered the first beer to Harry.

“Really?” Harry dumbly said as he slowly took the condensation covered glass. 

Zayn nodded, “Yeah.” He looked between Harry and Louis before saying, “Lou’s grown a bit fond of ya, so, I’m glad you decided to stop being a cunt.”

Harry sputtered out a startled laugh and Louis swatted Zayn upside the head. 

“Do you have any dignity?” Louis groaned. He took the second pint glass, “Any at all?” 

“More than you apparently,” Zayn mumbled under his breath. Harry didn’t have time to mull over whatever that meant because Zayn was lifting his glass, “Cheers, gentlemen.”

“Cheers,” Louis and Harry said in unison, their glasses clinking together. 

Harry generously gulped the tap beer and nearly downed half the pint. He smacked his lips and looked at Louis’ shocked expression. Zayn gave him an approving hum and then took another sip. 

“What?” Harry laughed when Louis continued to incredulously stare at him. 

“It’s not a race, ya don’t have to chug it all in one go,” Louis fondly shook his head.

“Should make it a race,” Zayn countered, his weight resting back against the billiard table. 

Exhilaration rolled through Harry and he stood up straighter, looking between Zayn’s mischievous countenance and Louis’ pointed eye roll. 

Zayn taunted Louis, “What’re you scared of?”

“Yeah, Lou, what’re you scared of?” Harry chimed in with a leer. 

“Now that’s enough from you,” Louis threateningly pointed his index finger towards Harry’s chest. 

Harry bit the inside of his cheek and batted his eyelashes, embodying the image of innocence. Louis lolled his head back and groaned, making Zayn and Harry laugh. 

“Alight,” Louis eventually sighed and Harry restlessly rocked his weight from foot to foot. 

“Stakes?” Zayn cocked his head to the side. 

Harry clasped his hands together, “Losers do whateva the winner wants.”

“You’re really goin’ for it tonight aren’t you?” Louis chuckled and shook his head. Before Harry could doubt himself, Louis lightly elbowed him, “I like it.”

“Now that’s settled,” Zayn drawled out with an unimpressed look, “To the bar?”

“Hold on, I wanna know what you bastards want before I do this,” Louis widened his stance, his hands resting on his waist. 

Zayn tugged on his bottom lip with his fingers and nonchalantly shrugged, “Still deciding.”

Louis rolled his eyes and then directed his attention to Harry, “Stud?”

“If I win,” Harry slowly said, his eyebrows pinching together in concentration. “Oh!” Hs eyes widened in excitement, “If I win, you two have to jump in Lake Lanier. Clothes and all.”

Zayn huffed out a laugh and his eyes slid towards Louis, “Sure you don’t mean without clothes?”

“Fucks sake,” Louis wiped a hand over his face. 

Harry frowned, “Am I missing somethin’?”

“Nope,” Louis immediately said, his hands cutting through the air. “Not at all.”

“Okay?” Harry carefully said, deciding to let it go. He shrugged, “What’d you want if you win, Louis?”

Louis hummed in contemplation and then he playfully smirked, “If I win, Zayn has to teach you how to change a carburetor.”

Harry pouted, “What’s that?”

Zayn groaned, “Seriously?”

“Oi!” Louis smacked Zayn’s chest, “Don’t be a dick to ‘im.”

Harry didn’t bother to fight off a smug smile.

“Fine, if I win,” Zayn folded his arms over his chest, “Harry has to come with us to Atlanta this weekend.”

Louis’ jaw went slack and something close to fear, flickered over his irises. 

“Atlanta?” Harry looked between the two men who were having a silent conversation. He poked Louis in the side to get his attention, “You’re leavin’ this weekend?”

“You might be, too,” Zayn chuckled. 

Harry frowned, “I can’t just _go_ to Atlanta.”

“Why? Do you have plans with that girl you’re datin’?” Zayn asked with a tad more bite than Harry thought was necessary. 

“No,” Harry rushed out. He didn’t know why he felt the need to clarify, “M’ not dating Faye.”

“Right,” Zayn mumbled and then shook his head. “Whatever, then you’ll be comin’ with us.”

“No, he won’t,” Louis resolutely decided, looking more anxious than Harry had ever seen him. 

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling a bit offended that Louis didn’t want him to go. 

“You wouldn’t want me to?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too putout. 

Louis turned to look at him and gave him an apologetic smile, “It’s nothing against you.”

Harry’s frown deepened, “Then why can’t I go?”

Zayn didn’t bother to chime in, decidedly watching the exchange over the lip of his glass. 

“I thought,” Harry lowered his voice, “I thought we were okay?”

“We are,” Louis insisted. “It’s just,” He toyed with the cuff of his coveralls, “I don’t think you’d like where we usually go out.”

Harry looked to Zayn for assistance, but he was busy watching Louis with a curious tilt of his mouth.

“Never mind,” Louis tightly said. He jerkily nodded, “If Zayn wins, you can come.”

“Okay,” Harry uncertainly drawled out. 

Louis gave him a reassuring shoulder grip, “Stop it with the frowns or your pretty face will get stuck like that.”

“Doubt your bird would like that much,” Zayn snorted. 

“Stop it, Z,” Louis pointedly raised his eyebrows. 

Louis’ hand started to slip off Harry’s shoulder and for a moment, the idea of holding Louis’ hand in place crossed his mind. Just as quickly as the notion came, Harry extinguished its implications. 

“Right, sorry,” Zayn flickered his eyes towards Harry. He rubbed his hands together and jutted his thumb over his shoulder, “To the bar?”

Harry shared a small smile with Louis before they nodded and followed Zayn towards the bar. 

****

“What am I gonna tell my parents?” 

Zayn cackled, “We could always leave a ransom note or somethin’ so they think you were kidnapped.”

“They’d probably pay it, too,” Louis snickered

Harry groaned and scrubbed his hand over his face. 

As it would seem, Zayn was incredibly gifted in the art of chugging beer. Zayn won their bet before Harry had even plowed through half of his drink. The three men were leaving the bar and Harry was already mentally preparing what excuse he would have to give his parents so he could leave for the weekend with two mechanics. If they knew the truth, Harry’s parents would forbid it. So, he was going to have to get creative. 

“Did either of you need a ride?” Harry asked, eyes flickering between Zayn and Louis. 

Zayn jiggled a set of keys between his fingers and took a few steps towards a red pickup truck, “I got us.”

“Thanks, though,” Louis blinked up at Harry. 

Harry ducked his head, “No problem.”

“M’ gonna start the truck,” Zayn jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “G’night, Harry,” Zayn gave a small wave and got in the car. 

Louis hovered for a moment and Harry really didn’t want him to go just yet. 

“You don’t have to go this weekend if you don’t want,” Louis quietly said. 

Harry slipped his hands in his pockets and quietly asked, “Do you want me there?” 

Louis nipped his bottom lip and lethargically looked over Harry’s face. Harry wasn’t sure what Louis was searching for, but he must have found it because the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into a slow budding smile. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, more to himself as he smiled down at the ground. He looked back up at Louis, “Then I’ll figure somethin’ out with my parents.”

Louis hesitated for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and gave him a quick hug. A surprised squeak fell from Harry’s lips and his hands were still in his pockets. Before Harry could register what exactly had happened, Louis took a step back. He shyly smiled and turned away, giving Harry a small wave over his shoulder. Harry’s fingertips were buzzing with a frenetic energy as he watched Louis climb into the truck. Zayn drove away, leaving a dust of smoke in the wake of his spinning tires. 

Harry drove home in a slight haze and it wasn’t from alcohol, having insisted that he needed to be cut off so he could properly operate a vehicle. His mother was nowhere to be found when he strode through the estate, but there was a dim light emanating from underneath the master bedroom’s door. He quietly went to his room and stripped of his clothes before climbing in bed. Harry wished he was more surprised that the last thought running through his mind, was that his new favorite color was beryl blue. 

****

“Sir?” Martha’s voice called from outside his door. “A package was on the stoop for you this mornin’.”

Harry frowned and dropped _The Great Gatsby_ onto his duvet, pushing himself off his bed. Harry pulled the door open to see Martha standing in the doorway with a wrapped parcel. 

“Thanks, Martha,” Harry said as he took the small package that was addressed to him in messy scrawl. 

Shutting the door behind him, Harry climbed back on the mattress. His fingers tore through brown wrappings to reveal a book titled, _Brave New World_. Harry’s confusion only grew when he lifted the book and a white cardstock fell from behind the cover. Slowly, he turned the card over. 

_Page sixty-two_

Harry stared at the note and flipped it back over to see if there was anything else written on the cardstock. There was nothing else aside from the nondescript instruction. Opening the book, Harry quickly flipped through the slightly-worn pages until he landed on sixty-two. In the center of the page, there was one line underlined in red ink. 

_If one’s different, one’s bound to be lonely._

His breath hitched in his throat because the message was enough for him to know exactly who the book was from. Harry ran his fingers over the underlined text and he nearly missed the small note that was crammed along the bottom of the page, but when he saw it, his heart constricted inside of his chest. 

_**We can be lonely together.**_


	4. Chapter Four

Harry’s fingers dawdled over ivory keys as the inscription along page sixty-two plagued his thoughts. A melody echoed throughout the estate and bluebirds accompanied every note with inflections of their own calls. His hands expertly danced along the piano, but his heart was anchored to the piece of cardstock that heavily rested inside the breast pocket of his blazer. 

“Aren’t you s’posed to be headed to the club, son?” 

Faltering for a split second, Harry’s eyes darted towards his father’s looming figure. Robin had a meaty cigar teetering between his fingers and a slight frown tugging at the edges of his mouth. 

Harry nodded and halted his ministrations, “Just wanted to iron out a few bars.”

“That’s my boy, always looking for perfection,” Robin winked and started towards the direction of his study.

“Dad,” Harry called after him in a rush, pushing himself from the piano bench. 

Robin stopped at the mouth of the study, looking over his shoulder with a hum in acknowledgement. 

“On Friday,” He carefully started, knotting his fingers behind his back, “Can I go to Atlanta? I was thinkin’ about spending the weekend there.”

“Atlanta?” Robin’s brows pulled together and his mustache twitched. He rested his weight against the doorframe, “What would you go down there for?” 

Harry took a step closer to his father and straightened his spine, “We have a few stores in the city, yeah?” When Robin slowly nodded, Harry continued, “Well, you’re always tellin’ me that making connections is the most important part of being a businessman.” He fixed what he hoped was a confident countenance, “I think it’d be good for me to meet distributors and make connections for, um, the future.”

It was absolute nonsense and Harry hoped that Robin couldn’t immediately see sense that. He pinched the skin along the back of his hand while Robin surveyed him with calculated eyes. Robin minutely nodded his head and a flicker of pride crossed over his face. 

“Finally thinkin’ like a business man,” Robin approved with a jaunted smile. He closed the distance between them and firmly clasped Harry on the shoulder, “M’ proud of you for takin’ initiative, son.” Robin squeezed him before dropping his hand, “This is exactly the behavior I’ve been waitin’ to see from you.”

Harry fought of the slight sting that it took a weakly constructed lie for his father to feel proud of him. 

“Thanks,” Harry feebly answered, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. 

“Are you drivin’ up alone?” Robin folded his arms over his chest. He cocked and eyebrow, “You don’t know the area and could wind up ‘round all the poofers and other bangers down there.” Robin lowered his voice as if it was a secret, “Especially in North East, son. Unnatural bit of town that is.”

“I’ll be careful,” Harry’s cheeks flushed and he diverted his gaze, feeling uncomfortably jolted by his father’s statement. “M’ going with Louis Tomlinson,” Harry tacked on, his voice slightly wavering. 

Robin squinted and looked over Harry’s shoulder, “Don’t think I recognize the family name.” 

“They’re from Savanah,” Harry rushed out, minutely relieved that his father didn’t recognize the name. If he did, Harry doubted that he would be allowed to go. He rolled his hand through the air, “Upright family. They’re, um…Tomlinson’s own the lumber mill over there. Wealthy sort of folks, y’know?”

 _Another lie._

“Oh, _that_ Tomlinson,” Robin nodded and shook his head, “Course. It’s coming back to me.” He shoved a hand in his pocket and shifted his weight, “Real respectable family.”

Harry did his best not to snort that his father was simply attempting to save face. 

“So,” Harry cleared his throat, “Is it alright if I go?”

Robin jerked his head and lifted his cigar, “Go ahead.” He winked and fake-whispered, “I caught a few birds the first time I made it to Atlanta.” Robin cocked his head to the side, “Make me proud, son.”

Not bothering to explain to his father that there was absolutely no chance of him picking up a woman, Harry gave a slightly disjointed salute and walked towards the front door. There was a slight niggling feeling inside of his chest at the idea that the other two men might find company in a pretty girl or two during the trip. His hand gripped the doorknob and he pushed the door open with more vigor than necessary. 

****

“Guess who I saw makin’ rounds out there,” Niall drawled out as a form of greeting once Harry made it backstage. 

Harry tipped back his scotch, swallowing the tawny liquid before smacking his lips. He shrugged and widened his eyes, silently beckoning Niall to come out with it. Since Harry had met Louis, he started to feel himself pull away from the friendship he had cultivated with Niall. Something seemed unnervingly unauthentic and it was an almost tangible shift inside of his gut. He felt as if he was merely playing a charade during their conversations and for once, Harry allowed himself to crave for the taste of something more. 

“Y’know, that pretty little thing that’s been chasin’ you ‘round?”

Beryl irises surged to the forefront of his mind, stinging his synapses with an unnerving force of finality. Blue blended into the course of the Milky Way, swirling in an imperfect imitation of budding seafoam along crashing waves. It was a pigment that plummeted deeper than the ocean itself and rivaled the opalescent glimmer of extraterrestrial constellations. 

A roll of nausea plunged his heart into frenetic palpitations as realization placed who the color belonged to. 

Harry’s throat painfully clenched and he shook his head, sweat budding along the nape of his neck. The empty glass slipped from his limp grip and clashed against wooden floorboards. Blood rushed to his ears, painting his hearing in a roaring veil of discombobulation. Niall gaped at him in disbelief before he promptly rattled off a slew of verbalization. Harry watched the other man’s mouth form words, but he couldn’t register a single one of them. 

His eyes pinched shut and a helpless mewl nearly poured from his lips as Louis’ face materialized behind his eyelids. Ragged breaths mimicked the jagged pieces of glass along the ground; broken and irrevocably shattered. Bodies were shuffling around him to clean the broken glass, but he was the one that truly needed to be tended to. Harry felt as if he was mutedly suffocating inside of the turbulent stars that had offered solace a mere moment prior.

Niall kneeled down to pick up shards of glass and disbelievingly panted, “Christ, Harry, Faye ain’t bad enough to go an’ smash the good glasses.”

“I –”

“You gotta man up sooner or later, pal,” Niall barreled on, chucking the shards into a nearby bin. 

Harry scrubbed a palm over his face, wiping away a layer of sheen. He barely gasped out, “I need air,” before he pushed his way through other musicians. 

Niall’s voice boomed from behind him, “Better be back an’ right in twenty, Styles!”

He waved a hand over his shoulder and darted from behind the thick curtain. The compilation of conversations from the club’s patrons filled his ears, shooting his pulse to a nearly manic rate. Harry’s fingers were violently trembling as he blindly weaved through the crowd. A slender hand gripped the sleeve of his jacket and Harry nearly threw his elbow back into the other person, partially expecting it to be Faye.

“Harry!”

The melodic voice was transformed into a taunt inside of Harry’s mind as the too-familiar lilt registered. Harry snapped his head, looking behind him to see Louis standing there, hand still clutched onto the blazer. Louis wore the same outfit from the evening they met, one of the suspender straps struggling not to slip off of the jut of his shoulder. A red bandana hung from his neck and Harry mentally abused the part of him that was transfixed. His gaze chanced a glimpse at the other man’s face, internally begging for relief from the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts that plucked his heartstrings. One look at Louis’ open expression and irises layered with mischief, had Harry a single tier away from collapsing in pure panic as everything bled opulent blue. 

“Aren’t ya s’posed to be up soon, stud?”

Harry visibly flinched at the nickname and weakly tried to pull his arm back. Formulating words was incomprehensible as his tongue dried inside of his mouth. 

“Harry?” Louis’ eyes searched over Harry’s face, a frown spiraling his smirk downwards. His grip slid to the crook of Harry’s elbow, “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

He shook his head, tongue trapped between his teeth. 

Louis’ worry grew and he stepped closer, lowly begging, “C’mon, Harry, talk to me.’’

“I – I can’t,” Harry choked out before he jerked his arm back, giving into the innate need to flee as far as possible from the other man. 

Harry spun on his heel and booked it towards the exit, leaving intentions of returning in the cloud of tobacco smoke behind him. Fresh air circled around him, slightly offering refuge from the horrific thoughts that speared themselves one by one into his chest. 

“Wait up!” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry harshly exhaled under his breath.

Snaking his way along the queue of men and women, Harry bounded towards the parking lot. Behind him, the thud of footsteps grew louder against the pavement and he was vaguely aware of Louis’ voice calling after him. His nails dug into the fleshy skin of his palms as his gait increased pace. The toe of his shoe caught along a rock in his haste, nearly toppling him over. A set of hands steadied him along his waist and Harry had to clamp his eyes shut. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his senses centralized where Louis’ hands burned through his layers of clothes. 

Harry deeply inhaled and dropped his hand, “I don’t wanna talk right now.” He opened his eyes and stared at the siding of his truck as he half-heartedly exhaled, “Don’t feel well.”

“Did I do somethin’ wrong?” Louis carefully asked, voice dripping with poorly concealed anxiety. He quickly tacked on, “If this is about Atlanta –”

“It’s not,” Harry managed to cut Louis off. He resolutely didn’t look where Louis walked to his right, “You didn’t do anythin’.”

In that moment, he was unfathomably selfish. Implicative perverse feelings clawed along his insides and yet, he couldn’t push Louis away. Louis was the bolt of light amidst the shadows of Harry’s well-constructed life and if he was gone, grey would surely suffocate what remained of the incomparable sunlight. 

“You don’t wanna talk,” Louis quietly started, his hold unwavering, “That’s fine.” He sighed and slowly guided Harry forwards, “But I’m not gonna let you drive like this.” 

“M’ fine,” Harry gritted out, hoping that if he said the words they would be true. 

“Are we back to lying, then?”

Harry faltered at that, stopping in his tracks. A crease settled along his forehead as his eyebrows knitted together. His lips firmly pressed together when Louis stood in front of him, arms folded over his chest. The heels of his shoes dug into the gravel beneath them in attempts to ground himself as their eyes met. Louis cocked his eyebrow and the expectant look was all it took for Harry to heavily sigh and shake his head. 

“Good,” Louis said and held out his hand. “Keys?”

“Not givin’ you my keys.”

Louis hardened his gaze and squared his shoulders, “It’s either I drive us somewhere or we sit in the parking lot ‘til you’re okay.” 

Harry tugged on his bottom lip and looked over his shoulder, wincing when he saw a few of the men in line watching their exchange with curiosity. Judgement dripped from their peering eyes, or at least, that’s what Harry’s brain was echoing back to him. His back arched over in attempts to make himself small as his breathing sped into small puffs. 

“I think I should be alone,” Harry mumbled, turning back to face Louis. 

Louis looked over Harry’s shoulder with his lip worried between his teeth. When the lush skin slipped from their hold, Louis shoved his hands in his pockets. He took a small step forwards and lowered his voice from its usual timbre. 

“Page sixty-two.”

 _We can be lonely together._

Harry cupped his head in his hands as the piece of cardstock along his breast pocket seared him as if it was a hot iron. The implication of Louis’ words morphed into an unwanted blossom of hope that caused his stomach to turn in on itself. His fingers tugged at the roots of his hair and he swallowed a sob that bubbled inside of his throat. It was impossible to miss the moment Louis’ fingertips ghosted along the lapel of his blazer. Harry felt as if his entire life was deconstructed by the simple graze.

“Why?” 

Louis slightly tilted his head to the side as confusion crossed his countenance. He raised a shoulder, “Why, what?”

“Why,” Harry fidgeted with the hem of his jacket, “Louis, why do you care so much?” He looked across the empty lot and anxiously folded his arms over his chest, “What does it matter to you if I’m lonely?”

Louis looked unnerved from Harry’s question, rocking his weight back to the heels of his shoes. 

“Just – I dunno,” Louis scratched the side of his neck. He shrugged, “I just do.”

Harry felt as if he was a cornered animal, begging for a way out. 

“S’ not normal,” Harry disjointedly said, his words coming out choppy through his breaths. He cut his hands in the air between them, “This ain’t normal for two –”

“Harry,” Louis warningly cut him off. He minutely shook his head, “You’re not feelin’ well and you’re gonna say somethin’ you don’t wanna say.”

“Men shouldn’t act like this with each other.” 

Louis scoffed, his eyes rolling back in disgust as he spat, “And who told you that?” He widened his eyes, “Your mama who’s tryin’ to marry you off to someone you don’t even like?” Louis wildly gesticulated his hands in the air, “Or was it your father who’s been pushin’ a company on you that you don’t care about?”

Harry shook his head, pushing Louis’ words away as if they didn’t pierce him. 

“It’s _wrong_.”

“What exactly is wrong?” Louis lowered his voice as he took a step closer towards Harry. He jutted his chin up to meet Harry’s eyes, “What ‘ave we done that’s _so_ wrong?” 

“The book,” Harry chanced a look over his shoulder to see if anyone was headed their way. When there wasn’t, he quietly said, “You wrote that we could be lonely together.”

Louis didn’t back down, if anything he made himself even taller by swaying forward, “And ya mean to tell me that you don’t want that?” When Harry didn’t immediately answer, Louis gritted out, “Tell me that’s not what you want, Harry.”

“I – I don’t even know what you meant by it,” Harry helplessly deflected. He shook his head and prayed that Louis’ words wouldn’t reflect the feelings that crept along the previously empty crevices of his heart. Harry feebly lifted his shoulders, “What did you mean?”

“No,” Louis shook his head. He took a step back and pointed his index finger at Harry, “We’re not gonna do this here.”

Harry balled his hands into fists and clearly enunciated, “What did you mean?”

Louis’ eyes shut and Harry watched as an exhale left his body. When he blinked them back open, there was a visible amount of dread that danced along his irises. He was defeated before he even verbalized his thoughts and Harry was terrified by the amount of weight his answer would hold for the both of them. Louis gripped the back of his own neck and minutely shrugged. 

“Think you already know the answer to that, Stud.”

Harry jerkily shook his head, “No.” He took an uncertain step back, “No I don’t.” There was a clatter of noise behind them and Harry jumped at the reminder that they weren’t truly alone, “You don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about either.” He kicked the toe of his shoe into the ground, “Meant nothing, right?”

“Harry, it –”

“ _Right?_ ” Harry desperately cut Louis off, silently begging him to say that everything he was feeling between them wasn’t anything other than platonic.

Louis let out a frustrated noise and clasped his hands behind his head. He started to walk towards the opposite end of the lot without looking back over his shoulder. Harry pleaded that the earth’s surface would open up and swallow him whole as desperation drenched him. 

“Y – You’re a fuckin’ coward!” Harry shouted after him, body trembling as he stared at Louis’ back.

Louis froze in place, his spine visibly stiffening. The parking lot was silent and Harry knew that everyone lined up for the club was watching the scene unravel. Painstakingly slow, Louis looked over his shoulder towards Harry. The sheer amount of hurt that smeared his expression sent a bullet directly into the center of Harry’s chest. 

Harry had never hated himself more. 

“Everythin’ alright, son?”

He jumped at the voice that materialized by his side. A slinky middle-aged man was looking between them with narrowed eyes, his bony fingers leisurely swaying from Harry’s frame to Louis’. Unbothered to answer, Louis dropped his gaze and turned away, fists in pockets as he trudged towards his truck. 

“Um, yeah,” Harry shakily said, eyes darting back to Louis as he wrenched the car door open. 

The other man harrumphed something under his breath about young adults in the town before he stalked back to the queue. Harry wiped his running nose with the back of his hand as Louis peeled out of the parking lot in haste. He roughly kicked the side of his shoe into the packed dirt as Louis’ taillights diminished into dust. Harry’s quickened breaths morphed into pure hyperventilation once he was completely alone in the lot.

Harry rushed to his truck and yanked the door open with trembling fingers. He lunged into the driver’s seat and haphazardly secured his seatbelt, missing the buckle on the first two attempts. The windows fogged with every harsh breath that heaved from his wet mouth. 

“C’mon,” Harry gritted to himself, fingers violently shaking as he tried to get a key into the ignition. They slipped from his hand and tumbled to the floor. He punched the steering wheel and choked out, “Fuck!” 

Tears matted his eyelashes together, causing his sightline to distort into kaleidoscopic nothingness. With a helpless gasp, Harry slumped against the steering wheel and rested his forehead along the leather. The metallic sting of blood dripped onto his tongue and Harry released his bottom lip, unaware that he had been gnawing at it. His nails sunk into the tops of his thighs while he tried to keep himself together. 

_I’m not queer. I’m not queer. I’m not queer._

The sound of his door opening had him jerking backwards against the headrest. He instantly pressed the heels of his palms against his bloodshot eyes and wiped away the salty sheen. He cleared his throat and dropped his hands, shoulders sagging when he saw Louis gripping the metal frame.

“You – But, you left,” Harry sputtered out, his voice full of congestion. 

“Yeah, well,” Louis scrubbed a hand over his worn face. He stared at the windshield and sighed, “M’ not gonna leave you here alone.”

Harry cradled his head in his hands and after a moment of silence, he wetly whispered, “Somethings wrong with me.”

“There’s _nothing_ wrong with you, Harry.”

He shook his head, choosing to ignore the amount of earnestness that blanketed Louis’ words. 

“You don’t –”

“I don’t…What?” Louis humorlessly laughed. “I don’t know how you’re feelin’?” He threw in another self-depreciative laugh, “Unless I’ve been readin’ this whole argument wrong, I know _exactly_ how you’re feelin’, Harry.” 

Harry dropped his hands to his lap and slowly angled his face towards Louis. The other man was resolutely staring at the fine layer of gravel, wrinkles pinking his forehead. His eyelashes fanned over the height of his cheekbones, hallowing out his face into contoured shadows. The plush of his lips were pressed into a firm line and Harry couldn’t help the question at the forefront of his mind. 

“You’re gay,” Harry said barely above a whisper, watching the way Louis faintly flinched. He sucked in a breath and exhaled, “Aren’t you?”

Harry wasn’t sure what answer would have been worse. If Louis wasn’t queer, then Harry was going mentally insane from thinking that there was some form of connection between them that was deeper than being purely platonic. If Louis _was_ queer, well, Harry would be faced with the reality that it was all true and there was a disturbing possibility that he could be too. 

Louis raised his jaw, but still didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. His knuckles were bared white from where they still clutched onto the door of the truck. He tugged at the knot of his bandana and flitted his eyes towards Harry. 

“What happens if I say yes?”

Harry’s heart was thunderously racing inside of his chest as he watched Louis suck in an expectant breath. He reached towards the floor of the truck and plucked his keys off the matt. Fidgeting with the metal for just a moment, Harry firmly gripped them inside his fist. 

“If you tell me the truth,” Harry carefully but lowly articulated, “I’ll give you the keys.” 

Louis slowly let out the breath he was holding, eyes darting from Harry’s eyes to the hand with the keys in them. His fingers slowly drooped from their place on the door and limply rested by his side. Harry felt as if his entire world was stilted, waiting to turn on a new axis. 

“I am.”

The metal of the keys dug into Harry’s skin as his grip tightened. He blankly nodded once, unsure how to properly register the information over the blood that was surged towards his ears. Unable to say anything, he twisted his body to face Louis and slid out of the car. Louis’ eyes were wide and he took a step away from Harry. It was an almost defensive maneuver and Harry didn’t even know how to process the reaction. He held out his hand and opened his fist, palm facing towards the night sky. 

“Take ‘em,” Harry barely managed, his voice gravely and almost foreign to his own ears. 

Louis carefully removed the keys and looped his finger through the silver ring. He stared at Harry, probably waiting for him to say something else, but Harry didn’t have any other words. Whereas his mind was racing for the past half-hour, everything was oddly numb. He figured there was a strong possibility that it was shock and his adrenaline had finally bled him dry. 

“Harry –”

“Just,” Harry quietly interrupted, stepping past Louis. He sighed, “Just don’t take me home.”

Not waiting for Louis’ response, Harry circled the hood of the truck and climbed into the passenger seat. His eyes were blankly staring at the dashboard, only vaguely aware of Louis getting into the driver’s seat. Louis started the truck and hesitated a moment before he slid the key into the ignition. 

****

Harry should have known that Louis would take them to the clearing. 

The drive was filled with silence between the two men, the reverberation of singing crickets acting as the only filter for sound. Harry figured that neither of them knew what to say. A part of him was terrified of what would come out if he opened his mouth. Louis parked the truck and cleared his throat before facing Harry.

“Did ya wanna stay in the car or go to the dock?”

Harry barely shrugged. 

“Harry,” Louis’ voice cracked on the second syllable. 

The break pulled Harry’s attention away from the dashboard for the first time since they left the lot. Louis looked utterly helpless and Harry couldn’t help but to imagine that Louis probably mirrored his own expression. 

“Can you say somethin’?” 

Harry couldn’t fathom why the most imperative question at the moment was, “Were ya gonna tell me if I didn’t ask?”

Louis didn’t seem to expect it either, his eyes widening and lips parting. He wiped a hand over his face and let out a faint huff. 

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Louis glared at him, “I don’t owe you anythin’, Harry.”

“No,” Harry agreed and petulantly added, “But, you should have trusted me.”

Louis dropped his hand and looked at Harry with disbelief, “Try putting yourself in my position.” He angled his body towards Harry, “You were sayin’ offensive shit without even knowin’ you were offending me. I mean, fuck,” Louis panted, “I was scared. Still am, actually.” 

Harry mimicked Louis’ position, “Cos you never told me!” He put his hand on his sternum, “How was I supposed to know you’re a fr – Well, _ya know_ , if you never told me?”

“That’s exactly why!” Louis said on a laugh. He shook his head, “You were just about to call me a fuckin’ fruit, weren’t you?” 

“No,” Harry quickly denied, his ears tinging pink. 

Louis snorted and folded his arms. 

“Okay, I was,” Harry admitted, earning himself an eye roll from Louis. He quickly added on, “I won’t say that anymore, though.”

Louis slightly turned to angle his face back towards Harry, doubt written over his profile.

“I,” Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Um, I don’t want you to be scared.”

“Easy for you to say,” Louis mumbled.

Harry frowned at his words, but didn’t challenge the other man. 

“When would you have told me?” Harry asked after a minute of silence. “Like,” His eyebrows pinched together, “What woulda made you want to tell me?"

Louis lolled his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat. 

“If I thought you felt the same.”

Harry swallowed the automatic protest of disgust that threatened to roll off of his tongue. He cleared his throat and turned to look at the clearing, finding it would be easier to talk if he didn’t have to look at Louis. Everything about the situation had Harry feeling younger than his age and wildly out of depth. 

“Felt the same,” Harry knotted his fingers in his lap, “How?”

“Harry,” Louis heavily weighed the word on a sigh. “You’re bright enough,” He rested his hands on the steering wheel, “M’ not gonna play this game where I gotta spell it out for you.” 

He locked his eyes on his fingers and murmured, “Romantically?”

Louis exhaled, “Yeah, romantically.” 

“Right,” Harry mumbled, slightly nodding to himself. 

Heat colored his cheeks a rosy hue while a guttural feeling of relief warmed his skin. 

“And how,” Louis paused to slowly gesture between them, “How do you feel?” 

“I’m…confused,” Harry honestly said. He cupped his head in his hands, “I’m not –” A strangled noise cut off the word. Harry roughly tugged at his hair and stated, “Men are s’posed to be with women.” He dropped his hands and looked over the center counsel towards Louis, shoulders sagging at the mere sight of him. Harry weakly sniffed, “But…Then there’s _you_ and –” 

The words died in his throat because he had implied more than he was emotionally prepared for. Louis was watching him with wide eyes, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing as he tried to formulate words. 

“I can’t care about you that way,” Harry shook his head, fingers trembling in his lap. “It’s – It’s not right.” 

Louis tentatively reached out, his fingers ghosting over the sleeve of Harry’s jacket. He curled a hand around Harry’s forearm, “I don’t think it’s wrong.”

“Course you don’t,” Harry humorlessly laughed. “You’re, y’know, _gay_ ,” He stammered and wiped a hand over his face, “You’re not gonna say its bad.” 

“You know what I really am?” Louis asked, slightly squeezing Harry’s arm. 

Harry confusedly shook his head.

“M’ just someone who cares about you and wants to make ya happy. That’s it.”

Harry scoffed, “S’ not that simple.”

“Yeah?” Louis challenged, his hand slipping from Harry’s arm. “Why not?” 

His eyes focused on Louis’ hand where it rested along the counsel, internally wishing that Louis hadn’t let go. 

“Because you’re –” Harry swiveled his body back towards Louis. “You’re,” He huffed, losing his nerve the more he spoke.

Louis rolled his hand in the air expectantly, “I’m…” 

“A man!” Harry practically shouted, his voice sounding louder in the small space. 

“So that means I can’t care about you?”

“Yeah? Well – I mean, maybe?” Harry’s nose scrunched as he tripped over his own words. 

Louis stared at him as if he was expecting Harry to continue. 

“Is that all you got?”

“We’re both men,” Harry disbelievingly reared back, “That’s enough reason!” A slightly manic laugh came out of his mouth, “I can’t believe I’m even havin’ this conversation.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, “M’ not even gay. Can’t believe this.” 

He opened the passenger door and got out of the truck, slamming it shut behind him. Harry paced by the front of the tuck, the headlights illuminating him along the brush. Nonsense continued to tumble out of his mouth and Harry was barely making sense to himself. Louis clambered out and stood next to the left headlight, hands rested on his waist. 

“Just answer me one question and then we don’t have to talk about it ever again if you really don’t wanna.”

Harry paused his ministrations and narrowed his eyes at Louis. He slowly started to pace again as he attempted to steadily ask, “What’s the question?”

“Can you stop the pacing for one mo’?” 

“Is that the question?”

“Be serious, please.”

Harry crossed his arms and stopped in place, “You think I’m not takin’ this seriously?” 

“That’s,” Louis groaned and tilted his head back, “That’s not what I meant.” He lowered his jaw and looked at Harry, “I want you to be honest, yeah?” Louis took a small step closer towards Harry, “It’s just me and I’m not gonna judge you.” 

Harry felt uneasiness creep along the notches of his spine, but he stiffly nodded regardless. 

“Have you ever been attracted to a woman?”

Harry blanched at the question, instantly looking anywhere other than Louis’ curious gaze. His skin was going tacky as sweat pricked underneath his dress shirt. He ineloquently cleared his throat and said, “ _Technically_ –”

Louis closed the distance between them and stopped once the tips of his shoes touch Harry’s. 

“Be honest.”

Harry snapped his mouth shut. 

“Stud,” Louis quietly murmured, his voice almost a purr as he lightly brushed a hand over the lapel of Harry’s blazer. “Have you,” He flattened his hand over Harry’s chest, directly above the cardstock, “Ever been,” he blinked up at Harry from underneath his eyelashes, “Attracted to a woman?”

Heat emanated from Louis’ body and beautifully drenched Harry in warmth. He felt an unexplainable pull from the pit of his gut and let his eyelids heavily droop as he focused on where Louis touched him.

He shook his head. 

There was an unmistakable hitch in Louis’ breath before he asked, “And what about me?”

Harry opened his eyes and lightly clasped his hand around Louis’. With every ounce of will-power, he removed Louis’ hand from his chest. 

“You said one question.”

Louis breathlessly laughed and nodded, taking an uneasy step backwards. He turned on his heel and started towards the direction of the lake. Without glancing back at Harry, Louis called out, “You gonna come along or what?”

Although every instinct was telling him that it was a horrible idea, Harry found himself following Louis into the cover of the willow trees.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Harry said once he caught up to Louis. 

“I guess,” Louis shrugged. He barked out a laugh, “Don’t have much to hide at this point, do I?” 

“Have you ever,” Harry paused as he ducked underneath a swooping branch, “Ever, um, _been_ with a man?”

Louis cackled at that and glimpsed at Harry, “That’s really what you wanna know, Stud?”

Harry shrugged, “You’re the first gay person I’ve met.” He self-consciously tugged at the hair along the nape of his neck, “M’ curious.”

“ _Technically_ ,” Louis mocked Harry’s voice with a gentle laugh, earning a quick swipe from Harry. “Technically, you know two.”

“I’m not gay,” Harry rushed out as he nearly tripped over a stump, his neck flushed crimson.

Louis winked at him, “Not talkin’ ‘bout you.”

Harry frowned and followed Louis out of the brush, pausing by the end of the dock. He tugged on the sleeve of Louis’ Henley to stop him from walking, “Who?”

“Zayn.”

Harry felt gobsmacked as his hand dropped to his side.

“ _What?!_ ”

“Yeah,” The skin by Louis’ eyes crinkled and he let out a bright laugh. He shook his head, “Wait ‘til I tell him.” Louis kicked off his shoes and stepped onto the dock, “He thought he was bein’ obvious at Old Dog with the whole, y’know, skinny dippin’ thing.” 

“Zayn,” Harry reiterated. He slipped one shoe off, “Zayn Malik is a homosexual?” 

Louis snorted, “So is his boyfriend.” 

Harry unintentionally squeaked at that, hurriedly toeing off his right shoe. His panic from earlier had been replaced with curiosity when they weren’t talking about him. He rationalized that if he focused on others, maybe it would be easier for him to forget that he was potentially having an existential crisis. 

“Who’s his boyfriend?” Harry quickly asked, pattering down the dock behind Louis. “Is it another mechanic at the shop? Are a lot of mechanics poofs?”

Louis fixed Harry with an unimpressed look, “Really?”

Harry flushed, “Sorry.”

“Just,” Louis shrugged his shoulders and held his hands out, “Be more careful, yeah?”

“I will,” He rushed out, feeling embarrassed by the slip up. 

“Y’know, overall,” Louis drawled out with an amused smirk as he sat down at the end of the dock, “You’re actually takin’ this much better than I thought you would.”

Before Harry could think better of it, he sat next to Louis and murmured, “Reckon I’d lose you if I didn’t.”

“As a friend?” Louis carefully tested. 

Harry looked down at his lap and noncommittedly shrugged. 

“You don’t have to be scared,” Louis gently told him. He walked his fingers over the wooden plank and stopped a few inches from Harry’s thigh, “M’ not gonna go anywhere.”

“I don’t even know what _this_ is,” Harry mumbled, eyes trained on Louis’ outstretched hand. He rested his hand next to Louis’, “Why does it have to mean anythin’ at all?”

Louis shrugged a shoulder, “Nothin’ has to change if you don’t want it to.”

Harry frowned and looked up to see Louis already watching him. His heart erratically raced inside of his chest when he extended his pink out and brushed it against Louis’ finger. After a moment of trepidation, Louis hooked their pinkies together. Both men stared at their hands where they laid along the deck and settled into silence, tired of words that couldn’t embody whatever was between them. 

“Can we just do this for a bit?” He softly whispered, half-hoping Louis didn’t hear him.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded, a small smile playing along the corner of his mouth. “We can.”

****

“D’you think we’re gonna be okay?”

It was the first time either of them had spoken in the past hour and Harry slightly jostled in place from the semi-abruptness of Louis’ voice. In his movement, their fingers separated and it instantly left Harry feeling cold. He pushed his hair from his forehead and laid flat on his back, eyes skimming over the Georgian stars.  
“What’d you mean?” Harry anxiously asked while he fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt.

Louis shrugged and changed topic, “Are you sure you still wanna come to Atlanta?”

He nervously laughed, “You’re bein’ weird.”

“Do you still wanna?” Louis asked again, his face unreadable as he stared at the surface of the lake. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Louis coughed out a laugh, “I dunno, Harry, maybe because tonight was already a bit of a curveball for ya?”

“What does _that_ ,” Harry rolled his fingers in the air, “Have to do with Atlanta?”

“We’re stayin’ with Zayn’s boyfriend,” Louis told him, his voice almost daring Harry to back out. “He lives in North East,” When Harry didn’t come up with a response quick enough, Louis barreled on, “And we’re probably gonna to a gay bar down there.”

Harry’s nose scrunched, “Is that why you didn’t want me there?” He angled his upper body towards Louis, “When Zayn made the bet. Is that why?”

Louis picked at the wooden plank underneath them, “Yeah.” 

“Oh,” Harry exhaled, unsure what else to say.

“You’re gonna see men together,” Louis told him with an amount of severity that heavily weighed on Harry’s shoulders. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” The corners of his mouth tipped downwards. “Or like…Hate me cos of it.”

Harry’s back straightened, “Are you gonna be with anyone?”

“What?” Louis’ eyebrows rose towards his hairline. “No,” He shook his head, “I’m gonna be with – Well, I’ll stay with you.”

“I don’t think I’d wanna see you with someone,” Harry admitted. 

Louis steeled himself a breath, “Because it’d be a guy or cos it wouldn’t be yo–”

“I don’t care that you’re gay,” Harry quickly told him, trying to force conviction into his voice and stop Louis from voicing feelings that Harry was attempting to extinguish. 

Louis quirked an eyebrow and laid down by Harry’s side, “What happened to the whole ‘men shouldn’t be with men’ thing?”

“I – You don’t count,” Harry stammered, his eyebrows pinching together. 

“What?” Louis disbelievingly chuckled. “How would I not count?”

“You just don’t,” Harry stubbornly said. 

Louis rested his weight on an elbow and rolled on his side, eyes carefully looking over Harry’s face. He cocked his head to the side, “So it’s okay if I’m with a man…But it’s not alright fer other gay men?”

Harry was becoming flustered, his voice quickening its pace, “I mean – You can’t just go with _any_ guy.”

“Harry,” Louis cackled and nudged his toe into Harry’s calf. He shook his head, “Are you tryin’ to tell me that you’re alright with me bein’ gay as long as I’m not _actually_ doing anythin’ gay?”

“Um. Maybe.”

“Fine,” Louis snipped and laid back down, “Then you can be heterosexual as long as yer not doin’ anythin’ heterosexual.”

Harry full-blown laughed at that and rolled onto his side, “What?!”

“You heard me,” Louis smirked and mirrored Harry’s position. 

“That’s not the same,” Harry giggled, unable to stop the boyish grin that stretched over his face. 

“It is,” Louis insisted, slightly inching closer. He playfully narrowed his eyes, “Say you won’t.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I won’t get with any birds.” He scooted a bit closer and in a moment of bravery, hooked his ankle over Louis’, “Now say you won’t.” 

Louis sleepily smiled, “I won’t get with any men.”

“But you can, um,” Harry stammered, looking between their bodies, “You can do this. With me, I mean.”

There was something about the covering of the night sky that gave Harry a sense of courage. Wrapped in the safety of their paradise, he could murmur words that daylight wasn’t prepared to hear. Words that he himself was not prepared to speak. 

“Yeah?” Louis quietly asked, his voice barely reaching Harry’s ears. 

Harry nervously nodded, “Just this.”

Louis yawned and closed his eyes, “Okay, Stud.”

As Louis’ breathing evened out, Harry allowed himself to pretend that he was allowed to care for Louis in a way that was deeper than friendship. He slowly reached out and touched the fabric of the bandana, telling himself that he wouldn’t allow himself the stolen touches come daybreak. Everything he dared to think at night was under the protection of the moon and endless constellations. 

For one night, he would allow himself to dream of a future where Louis stood by his side.

Once would be enough.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of an emotional chapter for me to write because a lot of what Harry is feeling is a rather accurate imitation of how I felt when I came to terms with my sexuality a few years ago. 
> 
> With that, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at domestic-harry
> 
> -Lisxx

The following morning, Harry woke to the sporadic sound of splashing water. 

He was slightly disoriented by his surroundings as the morning sun enveloped him with a heat that usually couldn’t reach his bed. He frowned as realization dawned upon him that wood was digging into the knots of his spine rather than the plush of his mattress. Scrubbing a film of sleep from his eyes, Harry lethargically stretched his back until it formed a perfect arch. Dropping back down with a lazy grace, he opened his eyes. 

Endless blue skies stretched overhead and cardinals were already darting in front of the pouty clouds. As the pearly clouds bubbled to form cumulus shapes, events from the night before slowly trickled back into Harry’s conscious. They were unavoidable underneath the light of day and Harry was surprised that his heart hadn’t already started to erratically thrum inside of his chest. 

The pads of his fingertips bore into the dock in fruitless attempts to ground himself. Before Niall’s comment, Harry had never questioned a single facet of his own sexuality. He always assumed that the reason he wasn’t interested by the women who lived in town was because they weren’t interesting enough. Or pretty enough. Or smart enough. Just enough of _anything_ at all. 

Then there was Louis. 

Pushing aside the instinctive disgust that Harry felt towards himself, he could internally admit that there wasn’t one other person who ever made him feel the way Louis did. When Louis looked at him, he saw Harry as his own entity, not a trust fund. When Louis spoke to him, he didn’t coddle Harry, but he didn’t degrade Harry’s feelings either. When Louis listened to him, there was an earnest amount of fascination that curled the curves of his lips. 

When Harry had essentially dejected Louis in the parking lot, Louis came back for him. 

Louis treated Harry the way that he always wished someone would. 

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes and his nails bit into the wooden plank underneath of him. His cheeks puffed out as he shakily exhaled, urging his fears to dissipate with the next breath. 

Louis was beautiful. 

Harry gritted his teeth together as a mental catalogue of Louis’ profile pushing its way to the forefront of his thoughts. Every detail was crystalized into perfection inside of his memory. Harry wasn’t prepared to consider, let alone _admit_ , that what he felt was sexual attraction. For that morning, he could reconcile with the basic truth that Louis was stunning. He mulled over the notion that just because he cared for Louis, that didn’t necessarily make him gay. Louis was an exception. He didn’t have to count. White flecks danced over his vision once he opened his eyes.

Two thoughts continuously rolled through his mind, looping in a relentlessly steady pattern. 

1\. Louis was gay and he cared for Harry in ways that were not socially acceptable. 

2\. Harry was straight and he cared for Louis in ways that were not socially acceptable.

He closed his eyes again and focused on keeping his breathing even. Harry deeply inhaled through his nose, practically tasting the honeysuckles that grew along the brush. Holding his breath for three seconds, he slowly exhaled through parted lips. Hesitantly, he lolled his head to the left and blinked open his eyes, expecting to see Louis’ sleeping figure by his side. In place of the other man, all that laid there was a pile of discarded clothes. At the sound of another lap of water, Harry carefully pushed himself upright, brows furrowed together. 

Harry’s jaw slackened at the sight of Louis wading in the lake, water licking just above the dip of his spine. The sun had painted him a golden hue, water droplets clinging to his skin as they reflected an iridescent glimmer. Muscles along his arms flexed as he stretched and rolled his shoulders back. Louis dropped his hands against the water’s surface, cupping them together to wash off his face. 

“ _Christ._ ”

Louis spun around as the echo of Harry’s voice carried over the water’s surface, brows pulled together in confusion. Once his gaze landed on Harry, the corner of his mouth jaunted into a smirk. Mirth flickered over his eyes as he cocked an eyebrow. 

“Have you been watchin’ me, Stud?” 

“What?!” Harry’s voice squeaked a decimal higher than usual. “No, I – Um,” his eyes widened exponentially as his hands flailed in the air, “I just woke up.” Harry awkwardly gestured at the pile of Louis’ clothes, “Saw you were gone.” 

Louis looked far too pleased as he hallowed his cheeks and nodded. He shook his head and sunk lower into the water, letting out a sated sigh that rolled straight back to Harry. The apples of Harry’s cheeks flushed and he crossed his legs. 

“Well?” Louis taunted as he tilted his head to the side.

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat and looked away from Louis’ unnerving stare. “Um, well…What?”

Louis waded backwards, the surface breaking just above his collarbones.

“Are you gonna come in?”

Harry sputtered out an uneasy laugh, “Don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No?” Louis lolled his head to the other side. “And why not?”

“It’s,” Harry’s voice caught as Louis swam closer towards the end of the dock, stopping just in front of the final plank. “Um,” He dumbly said as Louis folded his arms on top of the wood, eyes expectant. 

Louis rested his chin on his forearm and sang-song, “Chicken.” 

“Am not!” Harry indignantly huffed out. He turned his nose upwards, “Just don’t wanna ruin my clothes.”

Louis’ eyes glittered with amusement as he laughed out, “That’s why you take ‘em off.”

“I’m not gonna go naked!”

“Embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Prude?”

“ _No._ ”

Louis shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself off of the dock. He glimpsed at Harry over his shoulder once he had turned away, lips curled into a taunting grin. With one lift of his right shoulder, Louis chirped, “Chicken.”

“Fine!” Harry pushed himself into a standing position and fidgeted with the buttons of his blazer. He narrowed his eyes at Louis, “This doesn’t make me gay.”

The other man barked out a sharp laugh, his head lolling back and shoulders shaking. He shook his head and held his hands out, “I didn’t realize swimmin’ was a homosexual activity.”

“It is when one of the guys is gay,” Harry huffed, shrugging the blazer off of his shoulders.

“Ah, yes,” Louis dramatically drawled out with a nod. “Should ‘ave realized I was doin’ it differently than the other boys all these years.” He widened his eyes and faux whispered, “Doin’ it the _gay_ way.”

Harry couldn’t help the grin that tugged the corner of his mouth, “Shuddup.” He hesitated with his hands over the buttons of his dress shirt, “Uh, would ya mind?” A flush crept along his neck as he clarified, “Can you turn around ‘til I get in?”

Thankfully, Louis didn’t tease him for wanting a smidge of privacy. He nodded and ducked under water, popping up a few yards away, back faced towards Harry. Louis danced his fingertips along the water and slowly swayed his hips as if there was music filtering through the air. Harry shook himself out of his revere, focusing on the task of getting undressed.

“Okay,” He anxiously called out as he tugged off the dress shirt, “Don’t turn around.” 

Louis snickered, “Don’t flatter yourself too much, Stud.” 

“Wait,” Harry faltered as he tugged an undershirt over his head. He frowned, “But, I thought you liked –”

“I suggest you think carefully ‘bout whateva you’re gonna say next,” Louis seriously said. There was a tint of laughter lacing his voice, but Harry knew that it was meant as a warning. 

Deciding to swallow the words that would have coaxed reassurance of Louis’ affection, Harry chucked off the rest of his clothes. His gaze was trained on the nape of Louis’ neck as he dropped his clothes into a pile. Cupping a hand over his pelvis, he took a step closer towards the edge and stopped once his toes curled over the lip. 

“Is it cold?” Harry asked as he loomed over the side. 

“Just get in the water,” Louis punctuated by slapping his palm against the surface of the lake. 

Harry pinched his eyes shut and catapulted into the lake, knees tucked against his chest into a cannonball position. Cold water instantly drenched him and a rack of shivers rolled over his body. Kicking his feet out, Harry surged above the surface and gasped for air. 

“Oh, shit!” Harry yelped, wiping water from his face. 

Louis’ musical laugh bellowed over the songbirds as he swam closer. Harry shook out his hair and pushed it away from his forehead. He couldn’t help the adolescent grin that was stretched over his face once Louis stopped a few feet from him, the other man wearing a matching smile that crinkled the skin by his eyes. 

“Too cold?” Louis teased as he sank lower, water lapping along his neck.

Harry sank down too and instinctively placed a hand in front of his groin even though the water was murky. 

“No,” Harry rolled his eyes, but his goosebumps were likely to give him away. 

“You do know how to swim, yeah?”

“You thought to ask that _after_ I jumped in?”

“Hey!” Louis defensively held up his hands, “I dunno know how often rich boys go for a dip!”

“Your right,” Harry snuffed with a posh attitude, “We usually get the staff to do that for us.”

Louis toothily grinned and shook his head, “You’re an idiot.” 

“Yeah,” He shrugged and mindlessly added, “But you’re still gay for me.” 

Both of their eyes widened at his words, the implication blatant and thick in the statement. Louis’ head tilted to the side as if he was deciphering whether Harry was testing him. Harry wasn’t even sure what compelled him to say it. Possibly, a part of him wanted to hear Louis admit his feelings without the safety of nighttime. The corners of Louis’ mouth tipped downwards after a minute. 

“What’re you playin’ at, Harry?”

Harry frowned and sank lower, “M’ not playing at anything.”

“Right.”

Louis turned away from him and waded farther away, the water breaking in his path. He stopped about ten yards out, head lolled forward as his hands rested atop of the surface. Louis’ back was rigid and Harry had a guttural feeling that he managed to already ruin things from the posture alone. Without allowing time to doubt his actions, Harry swam towards Louis. 

Once he stopped a couple of feet behind him, Harry reached out and brushed his knuckle against Louis’ forearm. His finger was slightly shaking and his pulse furiously rabbited inside his neck. Louis looked down at their contact with blatant confusion painting his features. Harry wanted to smooth out the wrinkles along Louis’ forehead and comfort him, but his own pride and insecurities stopped him. 

“If this is some kinda joke to you,” Louis quietly started, eyes sill trained on Harry’s faint touch, “Can – Just, _stop_.” He turned and looked up at Harry with a compilation of trepidation and exhaustion, “M’ too old to still be playin’ games like this.”

Harry’s lips parted and his nose wrinkled. He dropped his hand and self-consciously wrapped his arms around his upper body. In that moment, Louis looked as young as Harry felt. They were both figuratively and literally treading around each other. Harry wasn’t emotionally or mentally prepared to face what caring for Louis meant. The only thing he was sure of was that without Louis, everything would diminish back into a useless haze. 

“It’s not a joke to me,” Harry murmured. 

“You sure?”

“I – I’m not saying that I’m,” Harry meaningfully paused. He steadied himself and found enough courage to quietly say, “But, I know that I care. About you. And, well, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Louis angled his body to fully face Harry, water circling just below his sternum. He searched Harry’s face for something and Harry hoped that he was transparent enough so he wouldn’t have to voice the turmoil of feelings he was bottling up. After a moment, Louis looked back towards the dock. 

“Should probably be gettin’ you back.”

“Get back?” Harry’s spine straightened and his arms dropped to his side. “You wanna leave?” He shook his head and moved to take a step closer, but quickly remembered they both weren’t clothed and stopped. “I – Lou, please don’t be mad,” He begged, knowing that he probably sounded ridiculous. “I’m not playin’ any games with you,” Harry’s eyes frantically darted over Louis’ face. He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m just…This is all new and, well, y’know…Not anythin’ I really understand.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” Louis weakly sighed. He raked a hand through his hair, “But, it’s like ya just said, _this_ ,” He gestured between their bodies, “Whatever you’re feelin’ towards me, is new for you.” A sad smile lifted the corner of his mouth, “I think you need time to think about it before you tell me somethin’ you don’t mean.” He took a step back, “Or make a promise that you can’t keep.”

“But –”

Louis took another step towards the dock, “C’mon, Harry.”

“What happened to things not chanin’ between us, huh?” Harry snapped, covering his hurt with frustration. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Louis loudly inhaled, dropped his hand, and then moved back towards Harry. He reached out and firmly gripped Harry’s shoulders, eyes intently locking onto Harry’s. 

“Nothin’ is wrong, okay?” Louis enunciated as his thumbs pressed into Harry’s wet skin. “M’ still not goin’ anywhere,” He slid his hands down to Harry’s wrists, hesitating for a moment before he dropped them. Louis’ shoulders sagged, “No matter what you decide on, I’ll still be here.” 

Harry released his bottom lip from between his teeth and uncertainly asked, “What I decide on?”

“Yeah, Stud,” Louis nodded and folded his arms. “If you wanna pretend yesterday never happened,” He sucked in a breath and shrugged, “That we never talked about any of this…We can do that. Go back to how it was.”

Harry immediately hated the idea, already shaking his head before Louis finished the sentence. 

“No.”

“Just,” Louis scrubbed a hand over his face, “Give it a day, yeah?” He lowered his hand, “Please?” 

Harry clenched his jaw and turned away from Louis’ hopeful expression. Every single feeling that he was harboring, was raging war upon itself. He couldn’t verbalize why he didn’t want to pretend things never happened while at the same time, hated the feelings that had been burrowed inside of his chest since the night before. It was a chasm of destruction and he was terrified of being alone with it. He tightly nodded and waded back towards the dock, not wanting his layers of hurt and confusion to be on show for Louis. 

When they reached the dock, Louis turned to face the opposite end of the lake, “You can get out first.” 

Wordlessly, Harry hauled himself back onto the deck. He furiously wiped his hands over his slick skin in attempts at drying off and quickly realized that it would be useless. The materials of his clothes were tacky against his skin, but he pushed through the feeling and quickly got changed. Spinning to face Louis who was still dutifully staring at the opposite end, Harry cleared his throat. 

“I’ll head to the car while you get out,” Harry thumbed over his shoulder. 

Louis nodded and when his hands gripped the dock to pull himself up, Harry swiftly turned away. He fought off the blush that heated his skin and made his way back to the clearing. Until he saw the front of the truck, Harry realized that he didn’t have any plan for what he would tell his parents when he came back. He also didn’t have an excuse prepared for missing the performance. Figuring that those two issues were relatively the lowest on his self-proclaimed trauma list, Harry shrugged them off. 

“Ready?”

He turned to see Louis emerging from the blanket of willow leaves. The red bandana was knotted around his head, pushing the wet tendrils of his hair from his face. Louis’ Henley stuck to his chest and the straps of his suspenders uselessly hung against his thighs. What Harry focused on, was the way Louis’ illuminant eyes were the perfect embodiment of what came to his mind the prior evening. 

Louis fidgeted with the cuff of his shirt when Harry didn’t respond. He raised an eyebrow, “Stud?”

Harry ignored the sirens that were blaring inside of his head and closed the space between them. Circling his arms around Louis’ narrow shoulders, he pulled the other man flush against his front. Louis let out a surprised huff before he melted into the hug and wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. He arched his neck and tucked his face into the junction of Louis’ throat. His feet shuffled impossibly closer as Louis’ fingertips delicately traced the contours of Harry’s muscles. Harry closed his eyes and lightly brushed the tip of his nose against Louis’ skin, allowing himself to breathe him in. 

Wrapped in Louis’ momentary hold, Harry’s demons were finally silent.

“I don’t wanna go,” Harry murmured, the plush of his bottom lip faintly dragging along Louis’ skin. 

“I know,” Louis flattened his palms against the center of Harry’s back, “But, you gotta.”

“Don’t want _you_ to go.” 

“You need time,” Louis quietly said, his temple resting against the just of Harry’s shoulder. He sighed, “And you’ll know where to find me after ya got it.”

Harry minutely nodded and started to pull back. His hands snaked along Louis’ shoulders, stealing the touches he promised himself he wouldn’t take. Louis let his hands droop to his sides, but didn’t step away from Harry. He dipped his thumbs into the soft skin of Louis’ neck, feeling how supple Louis felt underneath his fingertips. Harry cupped Louis’ jaw between his palms, his movements benevolent compared to the way his gut was incessantly churning. It was almost cathartic, the way he needed to internally memorialize the details of Louis’ body before it was too late. 

“I do care about you,” Harry whispered. 

Louis’ eyes closed and he turned his face to the right, nosing the pulse point inside of Harry’s wrist. Harry’s breath lodged itself in his airways as warmth blossomed inside of his chest. Louis nodded and then blinked his eyes open, taking a step away from him.

“I know you do, Stud.” 

Without any other words, both men climbed into the truck, Louis sliding behind the wheel. Once he was buckled, Harry brought his thighs to his chest and hooked his chin over his kneecaps. He tightly wrapped his arms around his legs and silently watched Louis drive them back to the face of civilization. A lump grew inside of his throat as they entered downtown, faced with the reality that he was going to be left alone to face with his problems. He rested his forehead on his knees and begged himself not to let his emotions bubble over. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Louis sharply inhaled. 

Harry ground his teeth together and shook his head while he resolutely kept his eyes clenched shut. He felt the slow prick of tears trickling down the hallows of his cheeks. Louis reached over the center counsel and placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, something that should have felt comforting. Turning away from Louis and towards the passenger window, Harry scrubbed the heels of his palms over his face. He sniffed back a layer of congestion and tried to ignore the feeling of Louis against him. 

“Harry,” Louis assuredly circled his grip around Harry’s wrist and squeezed, “It’s gonna be okay.” His thumb dipped under the cuff of Harry’s shirt and he rubbed over the delicate bone, “You’re gonna be okay.”

“What did you do?” Harry garbled out, his voice thick as if it was layered by treacle. He looked to Louis who was darting his attention from the road to Harry, “When you – Had, um, _these_ kind of feelings?” 

Louis made a right towards the club and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I mean,” Harry wiped away a slick of renegade tears, “How is it…”

“How’s it…What?” Louis cautiously asked as he pulled the truck into the lot. 

Louis parked Harry’s truck next to his own and shut off the engine. He kept his hand on Harry’s wrist and swiveled his upper body towards Harry. 

“How’s this easy for you?” He barely managed. 

“The truth?” 

Harry nodded.

“It’s not,” Louis sadly lifted his shoulder.

“But,” Harry frowned, turning to mirror Louis’ position, “You’re makin’ it sound like you’re okay.” His breathing quickened, “And tellin’ me that I’m gonna be fine, but –” 

“Harry,” Louis gently cut him off, “Just cos I’m okay with who I am, that doesn’t mean it’s easy.” 

After a moment, Harry asked, “You’re okay with bein’ gay?” 

Louis nodded, “Don’t see why I shouldn’t be.”

Harry huffed out a frustrated sigh, “Because it’s _wrong_ , Louis.”

“Give me one good reason why it’s wrong,” Louis slipped his hand off of Harry’s wrist. 

“Cos,” Harry faltered, focused on where Louis’ hand rested in his lap. He shook his head, “Men should be with women.”

“Why?”

“What’d you mean?”

Louis cocked an eyebrow, “Why should men be with women?”

“Because – Well,” Harry slightly flailed his hands out, “Reproduction.” 

“What about women who can’t have babies?” Louis challenged. When Harry stammered for a response, he continued, “Should they not bother to be in a relationship cos they can’t have babies?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “That’s stupid.” 

“That’s how I feel about your argument,” Louis snorted, his laughter filling the confines of the car. 

A grin twitched the corner of his mouth, “Fine.” He folded his arms and challenged, “What about the bible?”

“What about it?”

“God said homosexuality is wrong.”

“He also said cuttin’ your hair was a sin.”

“But –”

“Stud,” Louis meaningfully widened his eyes, “You can’t pick bits to follow and ignore the rest jus’ cos you’re scared.”

Harry looked out the windshield, brows pulled together as he mulled over Louis’ words. A part of him felt pacified, but the voices screaming inside of his head weren’t as easily subdued. Thinking back to their first trip to the lake, Harry bitterly reminded himself of something Louis had told him. 

“What happened with your girlfriend, then?” Harry asked, earning a confused expression from Louis. He narrowed his eyes, “Did you breakup cos she found out you were a f– Gay?”

Louis overlooked his near slip and tilted his head to the side, “What’re you goin’ on about?”

“Riley?” Harry practically spat out, “Or was that just some lie so I wouldn’t find out that you were queer?”

Louis bristled at Harry’s tone and glared at him, “I never said Riley was a girl.” 

“What?” 

“You just assumed it,” Louis scoffed. He turned to face forwards, “Riley _James_ Callahan, is a man.” Louis glimpsed at Harry from the corner of his eye, “Was a cunt, but still a man nonetheless.” 

Harry gaped at Louis, “So – You’ve had a…Um, y’know.”

“You can say boyfriend without explodin’, ya know?” Louis rolled his eyes. He tugged the bandana from his hair and fidgeted with the material, “But, yeah. He was my boyfriend.” 

Harry flushed at being called out, but still asked, “What happened?” 

“Got scared,” Louis shrugged, his knuckles baring white as he tugged on the bandana, “Made me think that his feelings were the same as mine, but left when shit got hard.” 

“M’ sorry,” Harry mumbled, understanding Louis’ motives for wanting to give Harry space. He cleared his throat, “You said your mama didn’t approve of your relationship…Did, uh, you actually tell her? That you – That you had a boyfriend?” 

Louis shook his head and lolled it back against the headrest. He looked up at the roof of the truck and his eyes were far away before he shut them. Harry watched the way Louis steadied himself on the next breath, carefully exhaling through parted lips. Louis slowly blinked his eyes open and there was a sheer layer of vulnerability that tinted them. 

“She came back from work early one night an’ walked in on us foolin’ around.”

Harry’s jaw slackened and his eyes enlarged. He floundered for words, unsure what he even wanted to know. 

“It was awful,” Louis mumbled, “Kicked me out on the spot. I moved in with my cousin, the mechanic, and started workin’.” He angled his face towards Harry and tipped his head forward with a humorless laugh, “Suppose it was enough to scare Riley. He left Savanah the next day.” 

Harry felt an unfathomable amount of sorrow for Louis, unable to possibly imagine what he had gone through. Forgoing what was supposedly right and wrong, he reached over and gripped Louis’ hand in his own. He slipped his fingers between the spaces of Louis’ and held onto him. Calm settled through his body at their touch, but instead of fighting it, Harry settled into the feeling. 

“You keep tellin’ me that you’re not gonna go anywhere,” Harry murmured, eyes tracing over the way Louis’ fingers looked tangled in his. “But,” He lightly squeezed Louis’ hand, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, either.”

“If you want this,” Louis looked up to meet Harry’s eyes, “Come to the shop on Friday ‘round noon.” He pulled his hand from Harry’s and opened the driver’s door, “If not, well, that’s the end of it and I’ll see ya when I come back from Atlanta. Just as pals.” Louis slid out of his seat and gripped the door, “It’s your call.” 

Louis closed the door behind him and Harry watched as he clambered into his own truck. The other engine roared loudly and with one look over towards Harry, Louis sadly smiled. He pulled out of the parking space and drove away, leaving Harry alone with the barrage of thoughts that have been slowly drowning him. Without the safety blanket that Louis’ presence offered, he could feel himself slipping under. Disjointedly, he crawled over the center counsel and into the driver’s seat. He turned the key inside the ignition and started his drive back to the estate. 

****

Carefully, Harry pushed the front door open and listened for any sign of life. He heard his mother’s hum from the parlor and slowly shut the door, praying that she wouldn’t hear the faint click. He stepped forward and winced as a floorboard noisily creaked under his weight. His eyes widened when Martha appeared from the dining room with a tray of tea and creamer, stopping in her place to stare back at Harry.

“Harry?” Anne’s voice carried from the parlor. “Are you finally up?”

Silently begging Martha not to give him away, Harry shook his head. 

“Um, no, ma’am,” Martha called back. “I just checked on ‘im,” She pointedly jerked her head towards the staircase, “Mister Styles is doin’ his studies in his room this mornin’.”

“Excellent,” Anne lazily mused, going back to whistling. 

Martha walked towards the parlor and paused in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder towards Harry motioned for him to go. Harry mouthed, _thank you_ , and crept towards the stairs. He kept his footing light as he pattered by the entrance of the parlor, his mother staring at the needlepoint canvas she held. 

“That’s comin’ along nicely, ma’am,” Martha said, pulling Anne’s attention away from the doorway.

“Oh, thank you!” Anne gushed and looked up towards the other woman.

The moment she was facing the other direction, Harry quickly scampered towards the stairs. He darted to his room and mutedly shut the door behind him. A relieved sigh fell from his mouth and he rested his back against the wooden surface. He blindly locked the door behind him and then started to tug off his damp clothes. Dropping them into a hamper, Harry slowly walked towards the bathroom. 

Sitting on the lip of the porcelain tub, he flipped on the faucet. Water surged into the bath and Harry numbly watched as is climbed towards the lip of the tub. His fingers danced underneath the hot water, barely flinching even though it was hotter than he preferred. Once the bath was filled a quarter to the top, he climbed in. 

Warm water coddled his body as he sank down. The nape of his neck lolled against the curve of the bath and he closed his eyes, focusing on keeping a steady pace of breathing. His fingertips dug into the edge, curling over the smooth material. Harry blinked up at the painted ceiling and allowed himself to feel everything that had been internally crushing him. 

Disgust was the first emotion to claw its way to the surface, seeping its way into his veins with every passing second. Harry pinched his eyes shut and dropped his arms into the bath. He allowed his spine to go limp and sunk down into the bath. Water licked over his skin, pulling him underneath until he was submerged. He could hear his own heartbeat as he held his breath, telling himself that he could drown the sickening feeling that plundered his gut. 

_You’re gonna be okay._

Harry heaved upwards and instantly sputtered out a gasp of air. His hair was plastered against his forehead, dripping water over his face as he roughly inhaled. His heart painfully clenched inside of his chest as Louis’ words morphed into an internal mantra. Bringing his knees to his chest, Harry cradled his head in his hands and let a sob rack through his body. His torn voice echoed against the tiled floor, mocking him as they reverberated back to his ears. 

“Help me,” He pleaded even though there wasn’t a soul to hear him. Harry shook his head and barely whispered, “Please fuckin’ help me.”

Time passed by him in an inconceivable haze. His skin began to prune as the temperature of the water cooled, but he couldn’t untangle his limbs. Everything ached and he felt hopeless as minutes slowly molded together into an hour. Only when he started to uncontrollably shiver, he lifted his head to look across the room. 

Shakily clutching onto the rim of the bath, Harry lifted himself into a standing positon. Fatigue nearly had him collapsing back into the water once his legs were straightened. He climbed out of the water and grabbed a towel to wrap around his frame. Unable to look at himself in the vanity above the sink, Harry numbly stepped back into the bedroom. 

Tugging the duvet back from the head of his mattress, Harry climbed underneath the covers. He blinked at the empty space next to him and his fingers reached out as if Louis would materialize by his side. Harry chased after the memory of feeling Louis’ body by his own. He closed his eyes, eyelids heavy from the countless tears that he had shed from the past day. Digging his fingers into the cold sheets by his right, Harry fell asleep to the guttural need to be next to Louis. 

****

“Well, there you are!” 

Harry flinched at his mother’s voice as he sat down for dinner. He offered a thankful grin to Martha as a plate was set in front of him. 

“Everythin’ alright, Harry?” His father asked, hands clasped together on the tabletop. 

“Yeah,” Harry quietly said, unbothered to put emotion into his voice. 

Anne prattled something off to Martha about getting the nice wine for the table before turning back towards Harry. She had an oblivious smile on her face as he said, “Didn’t see you all day, but I didn’t worry much cos Martha said you were doin’ some readin’.” 

“I was.”

“Wonderful,” Anne carried on, her hands lightly clapping together. “Well,” She gestured between herself and Robin, “We have some great news for you.” 

Harry speared the end of his fork into a stalk of asparagus, but couldn’t bring himself to actually eat it. He looked up to see his mother expectantly watching him. Suspiciously narrowing his eyes, he took the bait, “You do?” 

“We do,” Robin tightly nodded. 

Anne excitedly leaned forward in her chair, “The Masons are hosting a big ol’ cocktail party tomorrow evenin’ and we’re all gonna go!” She placed a napkin over her lap and cut into a piece of chicken, “Picked up a new suit for you this mornin’.” 

Harry dropped his fork and didn’t bother to hide his disgust, “This is meant to be good news for me?”

“Harry,” Anne seriously warned, pointing the end of her fork towards him. She pointedly narrowed her eyes, “You watch your tone.”

“I _really_ don’t wanna go.” 

Anne scoffed, “Course you do.” She swallowed a gulp of water, “You’re jus’ nervous.”

Robin watched the exchange with a calculated gaze, eyes dragging between Anne and Harry. 

“I’m not –” 

“Not bein’ grateful is what you’re not bein’,” Anne cut him off and beckoned Martha over. 

Martha filled their goblets with wine and offered Harry a sad smile before leaving the room. 

Robin peered at the two of them, “Did I miss somethin’?”

Anne purposely looked at Harry with a cocked eyebrow, practically begging him to say that something was wrong. 

After a moment, he turned to his father and mumbled, “No, sir.” 

His mother made a pleased sound and raised her glass, “To Harry’s bright future.” 

“Hear, hear,” Robin lifted his glass. 

Harry blindly stared at the table, raising his wine to match his parents. 

“Cheers.”

****

Glimmering cars that reeked luxury were already lined along the Mason’s lawn by the time the Styles’ arrived. Although his mother had called it a cocktail party, Harry would have dubbed it to be a gala. There were far too many people surrounded by overly elaborate decorations for such a quaint title. He adjusted the hem of his suit jacket and fell into step behind his parents, eyes listlessly roaming over the potted plants lining the front steps. A butler was perched at the entrance, gloved hands gripping what Harry assumed to be a list of the impending guests.

“Name?” The man stuffily asked, eyes already trailing over the sheet.

“Styles,” Anne pulled her shoulders back. “We’ll be by the _top_ of the list.”

“Of course, Mrs. Styles,” The man’s eyes widened and he slipped a polite grin over his face. He bowed his head and opened the door for them, “Enjoy your evening.” 

Without expressing a polite amount of gratitude, his mother entered with a grandeur that would have better suited a queen. His father pulled a cigar from his breast pocket and immediately wandered towards the direction of a smoking lounge. Likely, the lounge would be where all of the prominent men in society would be found. Harry hovered in the foyer, eyes blearily rolling over the expensive-looking guests as they loudly jabbered over background music. 

“Harry!” 

Faye bounded over to him and slung her frail arms around his neck without further introduction. Harry automatically jerked back in surprise, his hands awkwardly held out to his side. Faye lowered herself and smacked a wet kiss against his cheek. 

“Faye!” Mrs. Mason chastised. Through gritted teeth, she smiled, “Act like a lady, please.” 

“Yes, Mama,” Faye rolled her eyes and stepped back from Harry. 

Anne waved her hand in the air, “Kids, huh?”

“Just exhaustin’,” Mrs. Mason laughed as if Harry and Faye were standing directly next to her. 

Not forgetting his own formalities, Harry extended a hand, “Pleasure as always, Mrs. Mason.”

“Can’t say I blame my daughter,” Mrs. Mason chuckled as she lightly elbowed Anne in the side. She gripped Harry’s hand, “What a gentleman!”

Bile threatened to rise in his throat at her words, but he ignored it tightly smiled. He brushed his lips against the back of her hand and then let go. Harry clasped his hands behind his back, hoping it would be a deterrent from anyone else touching him. 

“I was just about to introduce Faye to someone, but don’t you go ‘an wander off to far!” Mrs. Mason playfully waggled her finger at Harry. 

He awkwardly laughed, “Uh, yeah.”

“Don’t let us distract you from playin’ hostess,” Anne chuckled as she plucked two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. She passed one to Harry, “We’ll manage just fine!”

Faye winked at Harry and then let her mother parade her around like some form of trophy. Harry figured that to her parents, she probably was. He tipped back his glass and downed the champagne. Ignoring his mother’s displeased huff, Harry walked in the direction of the parlor. He politely nodded to those who greeted him, but didn’t bother with pleasantries as he lethargically trailed through the main floor. The unmistakable squawk of Faye’s voice had him veering from left to right until he found a set of glass doors overlooking a garden. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed by either his mother or Faye, Harry pushed the doors open. 

Tall shrubs lined the Mason’s yard in nonsensical patterns, creating labyrinth of sorts. Harry meandered into the maze with a glass of stolen wine gripped between his fingertips. He walked along the uniformed path, pebbles crunching underneath the sole of his dress shoes. The sun had begun to set and Harry hoped that if he managed to stay outside until dusk, it would be harder to be found. 

He paused when he saw a white bench perched inside a make-shift alcove. The lacquered iron was decoratively twisted, but unlike the rest of the furnishings at the Mason’s, it wasn’t ostentatious. Taking a generous swig of the ruby colored liquid, Harry smacked his lips and sat down. He bowed his head and rested his forearms on his knees. 

After dinner the evening before, Harry had retreated back to his room for some form of solace from his family. Until birds greeted the morning with melodic chirps, he blankly stared at the opposing wall from his bed. Sleep wouldn’t take pity on him as he thought over every detail of his conversation with Louis. He had a choice to make and by noon the following day, Harry’s world would change. 

Harry figured that regardless of what he decided, things would irrevocably be different between Louis and him. If he decided to go to Atlanta, he would not only be admitting feelings towards the other man, but acting upon them. The trip to Atlanta was symbolization of the beginning of a romantic relationship between the two men and Harry knew that. 

If he decided not to go, they would remain as friends, but things would be different. Harry would still know that not only did Louis prefer male partners, but Louis had romantic feelings for Harry specifically. If he didn’t show us to the shop at noon, Harry would have to swallow his own affection and never let it see daylight. 

Taking another gulp from his glass, Harry looked back towards the mansion where his mother was surely waiting for him to reappear. He would be introduced to people who truly didn’t care about him and strut by Faye’s side as he pretended to listen to topics he didn’t care about. It would be dreadful and it was Harry’s future if he remained living his life passively. 

At the center of his gut, Harry knew what he wanted. 

****

With shaky fingers and an uneasy exhale, Harry shut the door of his truck. He forced one foot in front of the other as he clutched a rucksack over his shoulder. His stomach continuously turned in on itself, injecting doubt into his body with every step he took. Harry clenched his jaw and extinguished the hesitation, having spent the entire night tossing over his decision. Even though his mind was attempting to self-sabotage, his heart knew that he was making the right decision. 

“Louis?” 

At the sound of his name, Louis’ head snapped towards his right. The look that Louis gave Harry was all the reassurance he needed to know that he made the correct choice. 

Louis’ hand slipped from the raised hood of a car and weakly thumped against his side. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards before an ethereal glow illuminated his entire expression. His lips slowly curved into a grin before it fully transformed into a beam. The skin by Louis’ eyes crinkled as his teeth dug into his bottom lip. Harry felt his heart swoop as the blue of Louis’ irises were nearly diminished by the way his eyes reduced to thin slits. 

“Are –” Louis cut himself off with a disbelieved laugh. He shook his head and stepped towards Harry, subconsciously wiping his hands on his coveralls, “Are you serious?” 

Harry hesitantly looked towards the mouth of the garage, noticing that the only other mechanic present was Zayn. The stoic mechanic was watching Harry with something that looked close to pride, his head bowing into a small nod. Zayn walked towards the back of the left side of the garage and Harry figured that was his way of offering a bit of privacy. He turned back to Louis and closed the remaining distance between their bodies. 

“I’m not gonna be good at this,” Harry quietly admitted, extending his pointer finger out to briefly graze the back of Louis’ hand, “But, I know how I feel.” He let out a quiet chuckle, “Even if it’s fuckin’ terrifyin’.” 

Louis breathily laughed and nodded, “It is at the beginnin’.” He looked up at Harry and grinned, “I’ll be there for you, though.” Earnest blanketed his voice as he added, “No matter what.” 

“I know,” Harry bit back a matching grin, “That’s why I’m here.” 

“I – Um,” Louis stopped himself, scratching the back of his neck. He tilted his head to the side and beautifully smiled, “Means a lot to me that you’re comin’ with us.”

Harry bashfully ducked his head down as color painted his cheeks, the toe of his shoe digging into the gravel. 

“Me too.”

****

After Zayn’s pickup truck was loaded and the two mechanics changed out of their coveralls, the three of them began the trek to Atlanta. Unlike Harry’s truck, the front of Zayn’s car had a three seated cushion and no backseat. After a bit of bickering between the mechanics, Zayn was settled behind the wheel, Louis petulantly placed in the center, and Harry in the right passenger seat. 

“M’ not the _smallest_ ,” Louis huffed for the fifth time, arms folded over his chest. He looked up at Harry and glared, “You’re s’posed to back me up.”

“Absolutely not,” Harry laughed as he stuck his right hand out the window. 

Zayn cackled and veered onto the highway, “Just cos he likes you now, doesn’t mean he ‘as to agree with ya.” 

Harry flushed under the blatant statement, but there was an oddly welcomed feeling about having it addressed so naturally. It was as if they were talking about him liking a girl. There wasn’t a layer of negative connotation and Harry felt that he was able to relax into the seat. 

“Exactly,” Harry chirped, nudging Louis’ knee with his own. 

Louis looked at him with a bit of surprise before his eyes lit with unadulterated happiness. If it took a bit of courage for Louis to look at him that way, Harry wasn’t about to stop. Louis parted his thighs slightly and kept their knees pressed together. It was something painfully simple and it could have been overlooked by an outsider, but to Harry, it was exactly the direction that he slowly wanted to be guided in. 

“Both of ya are assholes,” Louis snipped with an eye roll. 

“Whatevea you say, Lou,” Zayn mumbled under his breath and flicked on the car radio. 

Heat spread throughout his skin as Ben Selvin’s, _I Only Have Eyes For You_ , gently cooed into the confines of the car. He changed a glimpse towards his left and saw Louis staring down at his lap, the corner of his mouth privately tugged upwards. Harry bit back his own smile and looked over Louis’ head to see Zayn already looking at him. With an inaudible laugh and a smug smile, Zayn turned back to face the road. 

Harry turned to look outside and watched the horizon flit by in colorful dashes of trees and pastures. The summer breeze whipped against his skin as the sun bathed him in her rays. He rested his head back and closed his eyes, focusing on his other senses while they barreled towards the city. Exhaustion from the past two nights ebbed away at him and back by Louis’ side, he allowed himself to fall asleep. 

**** 

“Harry,” A voice gently lulled, the soft timbre filtering somewhere between Harry’s conscious and sleep. 

His nose scrunched at the feeling of a faint pressure against this thigh. 

“Gotta wake up, Stud.”

His eyes clenched tighter before he blinked them open, a yawn catching in his throat. Harry sleepily pressed his knuckles against his eyelids and rolled his shoulders back. He looked towards his left to see Louis watching him with a fond expression playing over his features. 

Louis’ hand squeezed Harry’s leg, “We’re at Liam’s.” 

“Who?” Harry garbled out, voice thick from sleep. 

Zayn turned off the ignition and grinned, “Liam would be my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth remained in a small circular shape. 

“C’mon,” Zayn chirped as he opened the door and hopped out. “I still gotta shower before we go out.” 

Louis lifted his hand, “Me too.” 

With that, the three of them clambered out of the car and Harry’s jaw instantly dropped at the sight of a skyscrapers. Cars noisily buzzed by and the streets were filled with pedestrians. The setting sun painted the glass buildings in a rosy hue. Harry lolled his head back as he tried to see the top of the building they were parked in front of. 

“He lives in _that_?” Harry bewildered. 

“He does,” Zayn responded and Harry didn’t miss the layer of pride that covered his words. 

Louis handed Harry his duffel, “What’d ya think?”

Harry lowered his head and met Louis’ eyes with an excited laugh, “It’s amazing.”

“Ever been to a big city before?” Louis asked as he shouldered his own bag. 

“Nah,” Harry shook his head, “My sister, Gemma, moved to New York, but,” He shrugged, “I never got to go.”

Louis frowned at that, “Why not?”

“My parents haven’t gone.”

“What does that have to do with you?” 

They rounded the front of the truck and followed Zayn towards the building’s entrance. 

“Um, everything?” 

Louis looked unimpressed by his answer and noncommittedly hummed. 

Harry’s brows pulled together, “It’s not like I don’t wanna go.” 

“Then why don’t you go?” Louis cocked an eyebrow. 

“M’ not gonna go alone,” Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s a long drive.”

“So…Take a plane.”

Harry gaped at that, “I can’t do that!” 

“And why not?” Louis laughed, reaching out to take the front door from Zayn’s grip. He jerked his head towards the foyer, “Head on in.”

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled as he walked past Louis, stopping next to Zayn at a silver elevator. He turned to face Louis, “And I can’t go on one cos I’ve – Louis, I’ve never even _left_ Georgia before.” 

“No time like the present,” Zayn chimed in, pushing his thumb against a clear button. 

“My parents wouldn’t go,” Harry stubbornly said as he crossed his arms. 

Louis snorted, “Doesn’t mean you can’t.”

“He’s right,” Zayn tacked on. 

A bell _dinged_ and the doors of the elevator slid open. Harry hesitated before stepping inside of the box, his fingers anxiously twisting together. Louis was watching him with curiosity as the doors slid shut.

“You’ve never even been in an elevator, have you?” Louis slowly asked. 

Harry bit his tongue as the elevator jerked upwards. His hands automatically swung back to grip the wall. 

Louis loudly cackled, “Seriously?”

“Shut up,” Harry gritted, narrowing his eyes at the other man. 

Much to Harry’s expense, the other two men busted out in laughter. The moment that the elevator doors slid open, Harry pushed them to the side and quickly got out. 

“Aww,” Louis cooed, sidling by Harry’s side, “Did someone not like the ride?” 

For lack of words, Harry stuck his tongue out at Louis. 

“C’mon kids,” Zayn called from down the hall. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis waved him off. 

The three men stopped in front of a wooden door that had seen better days. Navy paint was slightly chipped away and the brass numbers “710” could have used a good polishing. Harry stepped behind Louis as Zayn rapped his knuckled against the door in a quick succession. There was a clamber from the other side of the door and Harry watched the way Zayn’s mouth jaunted into a soft smile. 

“Comin’!” 

Louis snorted, “He will be.”

Harry gaped at Louis while Zayn took the liberal approach of smacking him upside the head. Just as Louis reared his hand back, the door swung open and revealed a muscular guy with a lopsided grin. Liam had brown hair that was neatly styled back with wax, the sides of the cut buzzed short. His brown eyes were warm as they fell on Zayn, a boyish characteristic dancing over his expression. 

“Already fightin’?” 

“No,” Louis quickly responded and attempted nonchalance as he lowered his hand. 

“Right,” Liam knowingly said and rolled his eyes. 

Before Harry could properly gauge what was happening, Liam cupped a hand around the back of Zayn’s neck and kissed him. He could feel his eyes nearly bulging out at the display of affection, his weight nearly toppling over. Even though it was nothing more than a peck and Harry had seen far worse at the club, he had never witnessed two men kissing. He snapped his head towards Louis who was staring at him with his bottom lip worried between his teeth. Harry probably deserved that reaction since his must have looked ridiculous. 

“ _Oh._ ”

Harry quickly turned back towards the other two men, flushing when he realized that Liam must have only just noticed his presence. 

“Um,” Liam’s eyes slid towards Zayn, apprehension tugging his features. “Hi?”

Zayn rolled his eyes and gestured towards him, “This is Harry.” He swung his hand towards Liam, “Harry, this is Liam.” Zayn mischievously waggled his eyebrows, “He’s with Lou.”

“Oh!” Liam’s expression instantly brightened. He held a hand out towards, “Nice to meet ya.” 

Harry shook his hand with a timid grin, “You too.”

“Now that’s sorted out,” Louis huffed pushed Liam to the side, “I need to shower.” 

“Right,” Liam snorted and let go of Harry’s hand, “Jus’ go ahead and walk on in.”

“Thanks!” Louis called from over his shoulder, wandering out of Harry’s sightline.

Liam gestured for Harry to walk inside and Harry offered a small nod before slowly entering the apartment. It was simple, the space not offering more than what was needed. There was a living room that extended to a kitchen, a dining table for four people precariously perched in between. Harry passed the mix-matched couches and set his rucksack next to a dining chair. He looked over the cream colored walked and turned to see the other two men watching him. 

“Um,” Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. 

Zayn looked down the hall and then back at Harry. He slightly narrowed his eyes, “You’re gonna be good to him, yeah?” 

Harry’s eyes widened, fully unprepared to be grilled by Zayn when he was still teetering on the edge of his own self-acceptance. Regardless, he knew that Zayn’s approval was something that was necessary if he wanted things to continue, or, _begin_ , with Louis. He focused on what he wanted to say before he spoke, not wanting to be dishonest with how he was feeling, but wanting to reassure Zayn at the same time.

“M’ figuring all of…This, out. Probably will be for a while,” Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair when Zayn’s mouth pursed. “But if you’re askin’ if I’m messing him around,” He carefully carried on, “I’m not gonna do what Riley did and just leave.”

Zayn looked surprised at the mention of the name and Harry figured that he didn’t expect Louis to have told him. 

“I –” Harry cut himself off and sucked in a nervous breath. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground, “I like him. A lot.” 

Harry felt a slight weight removing itself from his chest with the admission. He couldn’t help but to feel a bit proud of himself that he managed the words. With a shaky laugh, Harry looked back up towards Zayn and Liam. Both of them were watching him with small grins tugging at their mouths. At the sound of the shower turning off, all three of them turned towards the bathroom. 

“Good,” Zayn said, pulling Harry’s attention back to him. “And if you ever wanna talk about, stuff, with someone,” He sat down on one of the couches and gestured to himself, “You can talk to me.”

Harry felt a wave of appreciation and he pulled out a chair to sit down, “Thank you.”

“Well that was nice,” Liam beamed, looking more like a puppy than anything else as he looked between Zayn and Harry. 

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, Zayn easily joining in as he tugged Liam down to sit next to him. Liam wrapped his arm around Zayn’s shoulders and lightly traced his fingers over the jut of Zayn’s collarbone. Zayn rested his hand over Liam’s thigh, his thumb running in small circular motions. Harry knew that he was staring, but he really couldn’t help but admire the way they slotted so well together. 

“How’d you two meet?” Harry found himself asking. 

Liam only seems pleased by the question and Harry wondered if it was because he couldn’t tell the story to many people. 

“Zayn and Louis were at Central down by the block,” Liam gestured in a random direction, making Harry’s eyebrows pull together.

“Central is a gay bar down the street,” Zayn clarified for him. 

Harry nodded, “Oh, okay.”

“Lou was off dancin’ with – Who was he?” Liam paused, his nose scrunching as he looked to Zayn. He vaguely gestured with a hand in the air, “The tall one with the –”

“What’re we talkin’ about?” 

Harry looked towards the mouth of the room to see Louis peering between the three men with. He was changed into a pair of fitted grey slacks and a white Henley. A pair of back navy suspenders hugged his chest and as always, a bandana was circled around his neck. Seeing Louis dressed like that, especially when they were going to a _gay_ bar, Harry couldn’t help but to think of the people that would try to chat him up. Even though it was completely irrational, a bite of jealousy gnawed at Harry’s gut at the mere idea of Louis being with another man. He was so far out of his own depth and then there was Louis who probably had a whole history of men. 

“M’ gonna get changed,” Harry abruptly said, tugging his rucksack off the ground.

“Oh,” Liam nervously said, probably realizing that something he said rubbed Harry the wrong way. He pointed towards the hallway, “Second door on the left. It’s a guestroom you can use.” 

Harry minutely nodded, “Thanks.” 

He passed by Louis, barely offering a reassuring smile before going to the guestroom. Harry closed the door behind him and looked around the room, seeing that it wasn’t much more than a mattress pushed against the wall with a duvet strewn over. He dropped his rucksack and flopped back onto the make-shift bed. It was only a minute before there was a soft knock against the door. 

“Yeah?” Harry called out, his hands covering his face. 

“Can I come in?” Louis gently asked, his voice slightly muted from the door. 

Harry braced himself with a deep breath and exhaled a weak, “Yeah.”

He lowered his hands as he heard the door squeak open. Louis padded across the floor and hovered over Harry for a moment before laying down beside him. 

“Are you alright?” 

Harry avoided the question and mumbled, “Can I ask you somethin’?” 

Louis rolled onto his side to face Harry, “Course.” 

Hesitantly, Harry mirrored Louis’ position. There was a foot of space between their bodies and Harry was surprised to find that he wanted to close it. 

“Have you, um…Have you, like, fooled around with a lot of guys?”

Louis’ eyebrows shot upwards and a surprised laugh shot out of his mouth. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Forget it,” Harry grumbled and moved to roll over. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Louis reached out and gripped Harry’s waist to keep him in place. 

When Harry felt Louis’ hand move to slip away, he rested his palm over the back of Louis’ fingers to keep them in place. He watched the way Louis’ eyes darted towards their hands before drifting back to Harry’s face. Harry slowly moved his hand when he was sure that Louis wasn’t going to pull away again. 

“Sorry,” Louis mumbled, his thumb lightly running over the dip of Harry’s side. “I was just surprised by the question.”

“I – This,” Harry emphasized by looking between their bodies, “Is already a lot for me?” He frowned at his own words, “And I know that makes me sound like some prude or whateva –”

“Harry,” Louis cut him off. When Harry shut his mouth, Louis continued, “I don’t think you’re a prude.” He squeezed Harry’s waist, “I think you’re figurin’ everything out and not rushin’ to do somethin’ you don’t want.” 

Harry flushed because that didn’t make him feel any less experienced. 

“I just feel like I’m tryin’ to catch up to you and I won’t be able to.” 

Louis frowned at that, “I don’t care that you’ve never done anythin’ with a guy.”

“I haven’t done anythin’ with, well, _anyone_.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“It’s embarrassing.”

Louis shuffled a bit closer, “It’s not.” 

“Easy for you to say when you’ve, y’know, been with another guy,” Harry huffed out. 

“Stud,” Louis chuckled, his eyebrows pinching together, “It’s not some competition. You _just_ realized that you might like a guy –”

Harry was quick to interrupt, feeling braver from his earlier admittance.

“I do.”

Louis snapped his mouth shut and then there was the same look he gave Harry when he showed up at the garage that afternoon. 

“I like you,” Harry whispered.

He tentatively reached out and brushed the pads of his fingertips along the front of Louis’ neck. Harry could feel the way Louis’ pulse was furiously beating underneath his touch and oddly enough, it settled him to know that he wasn’t the only one who was affected by what was happening. Louis moved his hand from Harry’s waist and gently wrapped his fingers around Harry’s hand. Harry watched with parted lips as Louis brought Harry’s hand towards his mouth. Pursing the plush of his lips, Louis pressed a kiss against the tips of Harry’s fingers. Warmth exploded inside of Harry’s chest at the sensation, feeling as if he had finally found what it meant to be alive. 

Louis lowered their hands and brought them to his chest, slowly intertwining their fingers together. Harry scooted closer and slipped his leg between Louis’. The voices that raged inside of his head were extinguished into nothingness when Louis parted his lips. 

“I like you, too.”


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying, you're crying.  
> -Lis xx

“Say it again.”

“I said,” Louis slowly drawled out as a grin arched the edges of his mouth, “I like you, too.”

Harry huffed out a small laugh and hooked their ankles together. He squeezed Louis’ fingertips in attempts to ground himself. The doubts that maliciously crept inside of his veins were eliminated by Louis’ words. Self-hatred was extinguished from the mere press of Louis’ lips against his skin. One by one, Harry felt as if the chains that constricted him were being cut loose. 

“So…What do we do now?” Harry quietly asked. 

Louis’ nose wrinkled, “What’d ya mean?”

“What do – Y’know, two guys who are, um,” Harry dabbed his bottom lip with his tongue and coughed, “In like with each other, do?”

“Are you askin’ me what do two guys do in a relationship?”

Harry flushed, “Maybe.” His eyes widened, “Not that we are.” Harry’s eyebrows pinched together, “Cos, we’re like before, uh, _that_ step.” The corners of his lips turned down in concentration, “Also, who asks who to go steady if we’re both guys?” 

Louis’ eyes were wide and his jaw had slackened half-way through Harry’s slew of disjointed words. Harry’s neck bloomed crimson as a glimmer of mischief flitted over Louis’ expression. He looked down at their joined hands and fought off his traces of embarrassment. 

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you a secret about datin’ a guy,” Louis conspired, his voice hushed. When Harry looked back up at his face, Louis lifted an eyebrow, “Make sure you pay attention to what I’m ‘bout to say.” 

Harry’s breath was lodged inside his throat and he leaned an inch closer, ears bleeding with anticipation. 

“Are you listenin’?” Louis seriously asked.

Harry quickly nodded, “Yeah.”

Louis pushed himself upwards and rested his weight on his forearm. He slowly leaned over until his mouth hovered over Harry’s ear, his breath faintly tickling Harry’s skin. Harry’s pulse rabbited along his neck in expectation, his eyelids lulling shut so he wasn’t focusing on jut of Louis’ shoulder. 

“We go get food.”

“Wait, what?”

Harry indignantly snapped his head back as Louis busted into laughter. He glared at Louis while the other man rolled onto his back and let Harry’s hand slip from his own. 

“M’ starvin’” Louis groaned and jutted his thumb towards the door, “And I bet they’re dyin’ to go out.”

“You’re an asshole,” Harry narrowed his eyes. He slid his legs from Louis’ and sat upwards, “I was bein’ serious.”

“So am I,” Louis snorted, pushing himself to an upright position. “We don’t do anythin’ differently than any other couple would do.” He shrugged, “Sorry if that’s a disappointment to ya.” 

Harry’s bottom lip jutted out and admittedly, he was slightly put out at the idea of things being the same as the other dates he had been on. 

Louis pressed his thumb against the plush of Harry’s lip, “What’s with the pout?”

“I don’t want it to be like normal datin’,” Harry looked up at him, wrinkles forming along his forehead. He shook his head, “I’ve tried that and I don’t like it.”

A gentle smile curled Louis’ mouth, “It’s not gonna be like Faye, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” His hand lowered and he softly grasped Harry’s shoulder, “I just meant the general mechanics.” Louis traced his finger over the junction of Harry’s neck, “We get to know each other. Spend time together. Jus’… _Be_ together.”

“Oh,” Harry exhaled, a tentative grin twitching his lips. He put his hand on Louis’ knee and just let it rest there, “I think I’d like that.” 

Louis beamed at him, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I want to know you.” He bashfully looked down at the heavy admission, “I wanna know everythin’ about you.”

“Me, too,” Louis whispered. 

Harry slightly scooted forward so his knees brushed Louis’. Lethargically and almost reverently, he allowed himself to roam over the details of Louis’ face. The freckles that dotted his sun-kissed skin and the dusty blush that colored his cheeks was immaculately captivating. Harry’s attention slid down the slope of Louis’ nose and hovered over his prominent cupid’s bow before centralizing on his mouth. His lips were beautifully flushed from the way he dipped his teeth into them when Harry spoke. 

Louis was beautiful. 

Unlike the first time Harry thought it, he wasn’t going to turn away and bury the guttural feeling. He would remain sitting in front of Louis and lucidly drown in the indisputable sentiment. Placing both hands on either side of Louis’ jaw, Harry leaned forward. He tilted Louis’ face towards the right and closed his eyes. 

Harry pursed his lips and lightly kissed the height of Louis’ cheekbone. The pad of his thumb traced against the seam of Louis’ lips, reveling in the way Louis adorned him with a kiss. He could feel air rush from Louis’ mouth as he delicately nosed against the smooth skin. Harry rested his forehead against Louis’ temple, a trill of shivers trickling down his spine when Louis faintly darted his tongue against the bud of Harry’s thumb before kissing it once more.

Giving into temptation, Harry crawled into Louis’ lap. A surprised noise teetered from other man’s mouth, but he was just as quick to hold Harry close. One of Louis’ hands flattened along the base of his spine as the other spread over the center of his back. Harry slid his hands to Louis’ neck and he pressed a kiss along Louis’ jaw, feeling the dusting of Louis’ facial hair underneath his lips before he pulled back. As their chests aligned and Louis let out a gentle hum, Harry knew that he was home. 

“Was that okay?” Harry asked, voice nearly inaudible. 

Louis shook his head and lightly applied pressure into Harry’s back. Before Harry could worry, Louis kissed the column of his throat and lolled his head onto Harry’s shoulder, deeply exhaling. 

“Not okay,” He tucked his head into the junction of Harry’s neck, “ _Perfect._ ” 

****

The four men traipsed out of Liam’s building and started towards Mac’s Diner. With much persuasion from Louis, they wound up agreeing that dinner before a night of debauchery would be the smartest choice for their livers. Harry’s hands were shoved in his pockets and his eyes restlessly darted over the budding crowd that hovered by the diner’s entrance. Louis stood towards his left, their shoulders occasionally brushing together as they walked. Liam hauled the front door open and Harry offered him a thankful closed-lipped-smile before stepping inside. 

Mac’s Diner was packed, most patrons averaging in age around their mid-twenties. A silver plated bar lined the right wall, complete with a soda fountain and a glass case stocked with double-chocolate cake. Music teetered over the different voices from overhead speakers and while he couldn’t distinguish the song, he found himself swaying to the beat. Harry’s mouth curled into a grin as waitresses whipped by them with full platters of burgers and fries, her white shoes quickly flitting over the cherry-wood flooring. There was a certain frenetic energy inside the pastel-pink diner and Harry was easily falling in love with it. 

He looked towards his left and excitedly nudged Louis’ elbow. The moment Louis caught his eye, an infectious smile blossomed over his sun-kissed face. Harry stepped closer and enthusiastically whispered, “Lou, this is amazing!” 

Louis nodded and loosely gestured towards the space, “Nothin’ really like it in Dahlonega, hmm?” 

Harry shook his head and looked back towards the hostess stand as a young woman stepped behind it. Her raven hair was neatly pinned into curls and her lips were painted ruby. She looked between the four men, hazel eyes lingering on Harry for a moment longer before smiling widely. 

“Welcome to Mac’s,” She cocked her hip to the side and gathered laminated menus. Lifting an eyebrow she asked, “Jus’ the four of ya?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Liam nodded. 

The hostess led them towards a table that was nestled in the far corner, her cocktail dress swishing with every swing of her hips. Louis huffed out an unimpressed snort and Harry couldn’t help but to agree with the sentiment. Harry sat in the seat closest to the wall, Louis easily filing into the chair to his right. He politely nodded as the hostess laid out their menus, cheeks coloring when she leaned a bit too close for comfort. 

“If there’s anythin’ else I can do for ya,” She pointedly looked at Harry, eliciting an eye roll from Louis, “I’ll be up at the front.”

The moment the hostess walked away, Louis folded his arms over his chest, “Can you _believe_ her?”

“Someone’s got a thing for Harry,” Zayn teased, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the tabletop. 

Liam matched Zayn’s posture and waggled his eyebrows in joint conspiracy, “Could probably get ‘er number if ya wanted.”

Louis widened his legs, knocking his knee against Harry’s under the table, “You two betta shut up.”

Harry was undeniably smug that Louis was getting jealous over something as simple as a hostess flirting with him. He pressed their legs together and bit back a face-splitting grin. 

“Would that bother ya?” Harry impishly asked, dragging the tip of his finger over the tabletop in wide circles. 

“Don’t you start with me, Stud,” Louis threateningly pointed his finger at Harry, the fondness blanketing his tone completely eliminating any real anger. 

Their waitress ambled over and much to Louis’ blatant pleasure, she wasn’t flirting with anyone at the table. As Liam ordered his meal, Harry leaned in closer towards Louis’ side and murmured under his breath, “Just want you, ya know that, yeah?”

A gorgeous blush colored the apples of Louis’ cheeks and he turned to look at Harry, his expression softening. He quickly squeezed Harry’s thigh under the table and whispered back, “Me too.”

Harry looked down at the table and couldn’t help the smile that was etched on his face. He wasn’t sure where exactly he found the confidence, but with every slight brush of Louis’ leg against his own, Harry was eternally grateful for it. All four men placed their orders and Harry quietly listened to the quick spits of banter that shot between the other three men. As Louis animatedly talked about Zayn’s and his last Atlanta trip, Harry found that he wasn’t even truly listening to what he was saying. His eyes continuously slipped their attention to the quick way Louis’ lips formed words. He rested his chin on his hand and admired how every so often, Louis’ tongue would dart out and wet the plush of his bottom lip, leaving it slick. All it took was a stolen glance from Louis, paired with a fleeting wink, to know that he wanted to be caught up in the other boy for as many nights as there were stars.

“So, Harry,” Liam started, snapping Harry’s attention away from Louis. 

He blinked and slightly flinched to see both Zayn and Liam watching him was matching grins that suggested they knew exactly what Harry had been thinking. Harry cleared his throat and straightened his back, “Yeah?”

“How’d ya meet Lou?” 

“We, um,” Harry shared a private grin with Louis before he scratched the side of his neck, “We met in the johns at the club I play at.”

Liam grinned and opened his mouth to say something before Zayn cut him off, “Was helpin’ ya with some bird’s lipstick, wasn’t he?”

Harry uncomfortably shifted in his seat at the mention of Faye, having hoped that he’d be able to escape her just for one weekend. 

“What’re you doin’?” Louis bristled as he narrowed his eyes at Zayn, a frown tugging his mouth downwards. 

Zayn shrugged and leaned back, “Just settin’ the scene.”

Liam slowly looked between the other three before slowly drawling out, “Um…Am I missin’ something?”

Harry awkwardly coughed into his fist and shook his head. “No, uh,” He twiddled his thumbs and shrugged, “I was on a date when we met.”

Liam’s eyes widened and his lips parted, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” He nodded and splayed his hands over his thighs. “It was fuckin’ awful,” Harry tossed in a small laugh. He jerked his thumb towards Louis, “I was tryin’ to scrub off her lipstick when he came in.”

Louis brightened and fake-whispered to Liam, “He was doin’ a miserable job at it.” 

“And you took it upon yerself to help?” Liam laughed and shook his head. “Real subtle, buddy.”

“Worked, didn’t it?” Louis smugly said, angling his body towards Harry. 

Harry blushed under the attention and nodded just as their waitress returned with their food. 

“How’re things with her anyways?” Zayn asked once the waitress left. 

Harry paused with his hamburger lifted towards his mouth. He started to feel irritation tick through his bloodstream at Zayn’s inability to stop bringing up Faye. Louis was stiff by his side and Harry felt overwhelmingly guilty that he didn’t think about how the situation affected him. He dropped his burger back on the plate and wiped his hands, reached over to cup Louis’ knee. 

“If you have a problem,” Harry carefully started, squaring his shoulders, “Just come out with it so we can move on.” He reassuringly squeezed Louis’ leg, feeling warmth pool inside his chest when Louis gripped his hand, and carried on, “I’d rather not spend the weekend talkin’ about Faye. Or…Well, anytime ever talkin’ bout her, for that matter.” 

Zayn gave him a calculating look before straightening his own posture. “Okay, yeah,” He lifted a shoulder, “I do have some questions ‘bout it.”

“Okay,” Harry exhaled, feeling sweat gather along the nape of his neck. 

He was overwhelmingly uncomfortable talking about Faye in front of Louis since their _thing_ started, but he knew that it was unavoidable. Especially if he wanted Zayn’s approval, he would have to talk about it. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” Zayn bluntly asked. 

Harry fish-mouthed for a moment, brows pulled together because it wasn’t as simple as that. 

“I – Well, I never asked her to be,” Harry stammered out. He guiltily looked at Louis who was resolutely staring at his plate. Harry sighed, “She’s under the impression we’re goin’ steady.”

Zayn narrowed his gaze, “Under the impression?”

“That’s what she said,” Harry mumbled, immediately panicking as he felt Louis’ grip loosening. He scrambled for an explanation and directed his words to Louis, “But – Lou, you _know_ that’s not what its like.”

“What’s it like then?” Zayn pressed. 

“Can ya fuck off for one moment?” Louis snapped at his friend, his voice ringing in the air around them. He closed his eyes and exhaled, “M’ gonna have a stoke. Be back.”

“Louis,” Harry frowned as the other man pushed his chair back. 

“S’ fine,” Louis tightly smiled and stood. 

Harry watched him stride towards the exit, tension radiating from his lean frame. He turned around when he heard a loud _smack_.

“Why’d ya do that?” Liam frowned at his boyfriend. 

Zayn wildly gestured towards Harry, “I wanna know what his plan is with the girl cos I’m not gonna let my best friend get crushed because they don’t wanna admit that it’s gonna be an issue.”

Harry cradled his head in his hands and groaned, a culmination of emotions swirling in his gut. He knew that he wanted to be with Louis and not with Faye. But, life wasn’t that simple. He could never marry Louis in the future or even get a blessing from his parents to be date a man. When it came down to Harry’s future, it was would be a split between what he felt in his heart and what his family wanted for him.

“This wasn’t exactly the time or place for it,” Liam angrily whispered. 

Harry dropped his hands and stood from his chair, not bothering to look at the other men as he said, “I’m gonna make sure he’s alright.” 

Pushing his way through the crowded diner, Harry stumbled outside. Louis was leaning against the side of the building, cigarette dangling from his lips. Smoke artfully spilled from the embers, twisting into the night sky. Harry steeled himself and slowly walked over.

“Hey,” He mumbled, resting by Louis’ side. 

Louis opened his eyes and glimpsed at Harry, his hand reaching up to pluck the cigarette from his lips. 

“What’re we doin’, Stud?” He quietly asked, sounding exhausted. 

Harry hated the way his stomach dropped at the question. Glancing around to make sure that they were alone, he shuffled closer and pressed their shoulders together.

“What’d you mean?”

Louis took a drag from the cigarette and blew out the smoke, brows pulled together. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed, “Be honest with me, yeah?”

“Course,” Harry instantly answered, fingers itching to touch Louis. 

“Are you gonna marry her?” 

Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and looked away. 

“I don’t know.”

Louis let out a humorless laugh, “Right.” 

“I don’t want to,” Harry murmured. He turned back and looked Louis in the eyes, needing the other man to understand, “You gotta know that I don’t want to.” Harry looked over his shoulder and then back at Louis, reaching out to cup his chin, “I wanna be with you. I like _you_.”

“I know,” Louis sadly smiled at him. He turned his head and kissed Harry’s wrist, “I know you do.”

“Then –” Harry cut off as he heard movement behind him.

His hand dropped from Louis’ face, his heart plummeting with it. 

“M’ not giving up on this,” Harry firmly told him, lowering his voice as a group of people strolled by. He shook his head, feeling slightly manic that he was going to lose what he had only just gotten, “I – We both know this is somethin’ special, yeah?”

Louis looked down at his feet and minutely nodded, “Yeah.”

Harry let out a relieved sigh, “Then give me a chance here.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, “I’ll figure somethin’ out with Faye.” 

Louis looked back up at Harry, quietly assessing him before he folded his arms and asked, “Can you promise me somethin’?” 

He nodded, fingers anxiously fidgeting by his side. 

“You can’t have sex with her if we’re gonna be together.”

Harry couldn’t help, but let out a loud laugh at the absurdity of it. Sleeping with Faye, or anything remotely sexual with the woman, was the farthest thing from his mind. When Louis frowned at Harry’s reaction, he quickly schooled himself and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thought that was kinda obvious.”

The corner of Louis’ mouth curved upwards, “Jus’ checking.” 

“You promise, too.”

Louis gaped at him, “Well I’m sure as hell not gonna sleep with her!”

“No, I mean,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Anyone else.”

Louis cocked his head to the side, “Are you askin’ me to go steady with you?” 

Harry flushed crimson and looked at the pavement. 

“What happened to the whole,” Louis rolled his fingers in the air, “We’re at the step before that, bit?”

“Yeah, well,” Harry grumbled, feeling embarrassed that his own words were being tossed back at him. He groaned, “We wanna be together, don’t we?”

Louis’ eyes were reduced to slits from how hard he was smiling and it filled Harry with a giddiness that he hadn’t ever felt before. 

“I know I do,” Louis lightly kicked his foot out and knocked it into Harry’s ankle.

“Alright, then,” Harry straightened his back and folded his hands behind his back. He slightly bowed forward, “Louis Tomlinson, would ya like to go steady with me?” 

Louis’ head tilted back as he let out a spout of musical laughter, the sound quickly becoming Harry’s favorite thing in the world. He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll go steady with you.”

Harry felt an unadulterated amount of nirvana and ducked his head down to hide his blush.

“C’mon, Stud,” Louis stepped back towards the entrance. 

The two men filed back inside and Harry was so happy that he nearly forgot he was supposed to be cross with Zayn. He was reminded once they sat down, quietness blanketing the table. Liam unsubtly elbowed Zayn in the side and pointedly looked between him and Harry. 

Zayn sighed, “I was outta line.” Even though it was clearly prompted, he did sound genuine as he admitted, “S’ not my place and I’m sure it’s already hard enough on the both of ya without me interferin’.” 

Harry nodded and decided to be the bigger person and let it go. “Thanks,” He offered a smile and tacked on, “I know you’re just looking out for him.” 

“Which I appreciate,” Louis added. He playfully rolled his eyes, “Jus’ don’t be such a dickhead next time.”

Tension was relieved from the group as they let out a rumble of laugher. Harry looked over towards Louis and privately smiled, unable to fully comprehend how his life wound up to him going steady with a mechanic. Louis pursed his lips in a kiss and Harry knew that he was right where he belonged, sitting side by side with Louis. 

After finishing their dinner and tossing some cash on the bill, they left the Mac’s Diner. Harry was practically bouncing from foot to foot as they walked three blocks over. He had never been to a bar outside of Dahlonega, let alone a gay bar, and he was filled with anticipation. They stopped outside of a sweets shop and Harry frowned, whipping his head between the other three men.

“I thought we were goin’ drinking?” 

Louis winked at him, “You’ll see, Stud.” 

They walked inside of the shop, yellow walls lined with every kind of sweets. There was a grand register perched by the back wall and Harry subconsciously slowed his pace as Liam strode towards the cashier. The cashier had a thick red moustache and he eyed the four men with a layer of caution. 

“What can I do ya for?” He rested his hand on his narrow waist. 

Liam angled his head to the side, “Seven choco oranges and a bowl of cherries.”

The cashier straightened his spine, “And if I say we don’t got maraschinos?” 

“Then I say, at least we got Langston Hughes,” Liam smirked. 

Harry watched the whole exchange with a slack jaw and scrunched nose.

“Welcome, fellas,” The cashier stepped out from behind the register. 

Before Harry could ask what was happening, the man stopped in front of a case of soda-pop. He smacked his hand on the side of the fridge in a quick succession of four and stepped back. Harry’s pupils enlarged as the case jerked forward in a swinging motion, to reveal a gruff man with a thick neck. Harry jumped back, directly running into Louis’ chest. Louis gripped his waist and let out a huff of laughter. 

“You’re alright,” Louis gently murmured. 

The gruff man stepped to the side and gestured for them to step through. Louis guided Harry forwards with a steady hand along the center of his back. Harry was aware that he was gawking as they stepped inside the hallway, music reverberating into the dimly lit space. Liam led them down the corridor until they reached a metal door that was barely concealing the pulsating rhythm of a bandstand. He knocked on the door in a similar pattern as the cashier.

A peephole slid open to reveal a pair of suspicious amber eyes. Harry reached behind himself and tangled his fingers with Louis’ 

“Password?” 

Liam cleared his throat, “Harlot in the garden.”

The peephole slammed shut, making Harry flinch in response. There was a distinguishable sound of a lock sliding free before the metal door opened. Louis pressed his thumb into the center of Harry’s palm and placed his other hand on Harry’s waist. 

“Evening, gents,” The gateway keeper greeted with a kind smile. 

Harry decided that the man was far less intimidating when he could see more than just his eyes. 

“Welcome to Wonderland, Stud,” Louis whispered into the shell of Harry’s ear.

When they stepped past the entrance, Harry stopped on the spot, shocked to see just how massive the underground club was. The walls were fully paneled with warm brick and a bar was nestled into an alcove. A dancefloor stretched in front of the bandstand and Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of all the same-sex couples that fluttered across the surface. It was incomparable to any environment he had ever been in before and yet, Harry felt more at ease there than anywhere else in the world. 

Well, aside from the Louis’ and his lake. 

“I can’t believe this,” Harry more so said to himself, but Louis’ reassuring squeeze told him that the other man was listening. 

“You like it?”

Harry turned around and in a split-second’s choice, pulled Louis forward and kissed his cheek. A surprised noise fell from Louis’ lips and he was beaming at Harry when he pulled back. Harry’s dimple dipped into the side of his cheek and he nodded.

“I love it.”

“If you two are done,” Zayn called out, “We got some drinkin’ to catch up on!”

Louis rolled his eyes, but stepped towards the other couple, “Yeah, yeah, we’re comin’.”

Harry let Louis pull him through the crowd with joined hands, relishing in the way that nobody was judging the affectionate gesture. He wildly looked over the dancefloor and couldn’t stop watching a particular pair of handsome men who were swing dancing together. Exuberant smiles were plastered on their faces as they moved and Harry slightly stumbled when the taller of the two smacked a wet kiss onto the other’s lips. Turning back to face Louis, Harry decided that was something he wanted to try. 

“Stud,” Louis called back once he made it to the bar, “You like Southside, yeah?” 

A surprised grin twitched the corner of his mouth that Louis remembered his order from the first night they met. He nodded, “Yeah, I do.”

Louis gave him a wide grin before turning forwards and waving down the bartender. Harry let his eyes roam over the other patrons as Louis bought them their drinks, waving Harry off when he offered to foot the bill. Harry flushed and stepped closer to Louis’ side, sliding and arm over the other man’s shoulders. 

“I like how cuddly you are,” Louis happily hummed, tucking himself by Harry’s side. “Good surprise.” 

Harry nosed Louis’ temple, “M’ trying this new thing where I don’t overthink everything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Louis looked up at him with an impish glint dancing over his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded and kissed the crown of Louis’ head, actively pursuing what his instincts have been begging him to do. 

“I like it,” Louis winked and then sipped his Highball. 

“Lou! Harry!” Liam shouted over the music and waved them to the bar where eight shot glasses were lined. He pushed four of them towards Louis and Harry, “Got two rounds of boomers for us.”

“Liam, this is why I love you,” Louis dramatically sighed as he set his drink down and picked up a shot. 

Liam snorted, “Glad that’s what ya appreciate ‘bout me.”

Harry did the same and then the four men were rasing clear shots of whatever a boomer was, and clinked them together. Tossing back the burning liquid, Harry slightly coughed and covered his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“The fuck was that?” Harry sputtered out, pulling a round of laughter from the other men.

“That,” Zayn passed him the second shot, “Is the house special.”

Harry scrunched his nose and deadpanned, “Its arsenal.”

Zayn cackled and nodded, “That, too.”

Never one to waste a drink, Harry drank it and quickly chased the taste away with his Southside. 

“That really does taste shit,” Liam admittedly, his cheeks already going ruddy from coughing. 

“Wanna dance?” 

Harry angled his body towards Louis, eyebrows raised, “Really?” 

Louis nodded and downed the rest of his highball, “Let’s see them long legs be put to use.” 

“M’ not very good,” Harry warned, but he was finishing off his drink all the same. 

“Don’t care,” Louis shrugged. 

Louis led them to the packed dancefloor, finding a relatively empty space towards the corner. He turned to face Harry and held out a hand, ever present smirk on his face. Harry stepped closer and gripped Louis’ proffered hand, resting the other along the dip of Louis’ spine. Louis placed one hand on Harry’s shoulder and then they were off. 

Trumpets blared around them as they whirled around the dancefloor in swift movements. Harry wasn’t sure why he was so surprised to learn that Louis was actually an impeccable dancer. Percussion set the rhythm and Harry did his best to keep up with every twist and turn that Louis made. Harry was beaming as he pulled back and spun Louis close to his chest. Louis took every lead in stride, easily gliding into the movements with rolls of his hips and quick kicks of his feet. 

“Fuck, you’re good,” Harry breathlessly told Louis before spinning the other man back out. 

Louis held out his free and did the twist, “Why d’ya sound so shocked, baby?” 

Harry faltered at the new petname, jaw slackening and heart jackhammering. He tightened his grip on Louis’ hand and tugged him close until their fronts were flush together. The melodic timbre of a saxophone poured over them as Harry cupped Louis’ face with his free hand. Louis’ fingers were firm around Harry’s and just as the chorus swooped in, Harry closed his eyes and kissed him. 

Kissing Louis Tomlinson was the epitome of a wonderland. 

Louis’ lips deliciously pursed underneath his own and he instinctively arched into Harry’s body. Heat blossomed throughout his entire body, nerves firing out stings of lightning with every press. Harry sighed into the sensation and let go of Louis’ hand to wrap an arm around his slender middle. Their mouths wetly smacked together as they kissed, both men eagerly taking anything the other would give. Louis gripped the front of Harry’s shirt and let out a faint whimper as Harry gently dipped him back. 

Pressing a final firm kiss to Louis’ lips, Harry rocked them back upright and rested their foreheads together. Their breaths comingled together and Harry was mindlessly stroking his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. Louis rocked to his toes and softly kissed Harry’s forehead before pulling away. Harry lethargically blinked his eyes open and felt himself visibly swoon at the way Louis was looking at him. 

“Absolutely perfect,” Louis murmured. 

Harry nodded and pulled Louis into a hug, tucking his head into the crook of Louis’ neck even though he was the taller of the two. Louis soothingly rubbed his palms over Harry’s back. He could feel the way both of them were raggedly breathing. The sound of the bandstand was becoming less muffled in the passing minute, reminding him that they weren’t alone. 

“That was amazing,” Harry shyly said into the skin of Louis’ throat. 

Louis let out a breathless laugh and shuffled impossibly closer, their bodies fully aligned. 

“About time, fellas.”

Harry weakly laughed as Louis groaned. They begrudgingly separated to see Zayn watching them with a dopey grin plastered on his face. 

“Go away,” Louis petulantly said, lolling his head onto Harry’s shoulder. 

Zayn laughed and shook his head, “Nah.”

“How many boomers have you had, Zayn?” Harry chuckled, noticing more and more that Zayn was stumbling without even walking. 

“Dunno,” Zayn held out his hands. 

“Good answer, pal,” Louis snorted. He stepped back and rested a hand on Zayn’s shoulder to steady him, “Let’s go find Liam.”

“I’ll meet you guys,” Harry thumbed over his shoulder to where he supposed the bathrooms were. “Be right back.” 

“Don’t find another mechanic in there, Stud,” Louis winked. 

Harry rolled his eyes and strode towards the bathrooms. He felt weightless and undeniably happy, barely fighting off the way he was smiling like a loon to himself. Touching his lips, Harry had a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time they kissed that night. After relieving himself in the johns and uncomfortably ignoring the blatant advance of a middle-aged man, Harry walked back in the direction of the bar. 

Glancing over the patrons of the club, Harry smiled when he caught sight of the back of Louis’ head. He pushed his way through the crowd, but froze in place as he noticed another man hovering in front of Louis. Something ugly reared its head inside Harry’s gut at the sickening tilt of the man’s mouth. Louis had his arms crossed and he was looking across the dancefloor, probably for Harry. For some reason though, Harry couldn’t bring himself to close the remaining distance between them. He was close enough where he was able to pick up on their conversation. 

“C’mon, you mean to tell me ya don’t remember me?” The other man asked, his blonde hair messily falling out of place as he ran fingers through it. 

“No, sorry,” Louis quipped, irritation coloring his voice

The slinky man’s mouth jutted into a pout and Harry balled his fists against his side. 

“Maybe this will help jog ya memory.”

Harry had heard the expression _seeing red_ before, but he always thought it was a gross exaggeration of anger. 

The moment the other man leaned in to kiss Louis, Harry saw red. 

There was a flurry of movement in the following five seconds, bodies thrashing forward and Harry was only vaguely aware that it was his fist that collided with the man’s crooked nose. Liam materialized by his side, hauling him backwards with a rough grunt. Voices were shouting, Louis’ being the loudest as he kicked the other man in the groin with enough momentum to knock him on the ground. Pain throbbed along the knuckles of Harry’s right hand, the ivory skin cut open. 

“You fuckin’ cunt!” Louis spat at the other man. 

Two burlier men hurried from the crowd that had circled the scene. They unceremoniously dragged the offender towards the exit. Harry’s body vibrated with fury as he watched them disappear, hands violently shaking by his side. He shook Liam’s grip off of him when he saw Louis move to follow them. 

“Lou,” Harry gasped, reaching out to pull Louis back. 

Louis spun around, anger visibly dissipating once he recognized it was Harry. He wildly shook his head, looking distraught, “I – Harry, I didn’t –”

“I know,” Harry cut him off, pulling the other man to his chest. He hugged Louis close, “I know.”

Louis relaxed in his touch and Harry let out a shaky exhale. He caught Liam’s gaze and frowned, “Where’s Zayn?”

Liam thumbed towards the bar where Zayn was slumped over, easily sleeping through the entire event. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking his head as he cuddled Louis closer. 

“Let’s go back to Liam’s,” Harry mumbled. When Louis minutely nodded, Harry looked to Liam, “Alright with you if we go?”

Liam nodded and with that, he woke a nearly incoherent Zayn up. With much coercing on Liam and Harry’s part, they finally got Zayn to move from the bar so they could teeter towards the exit. Louis kept close to Harry’s side until they were outside and back in the view of the real world. The moment Louis’ heat was gone from his body, Harry already found himself craving to reach out for him. 

During the walk back to Liam’s, Louis was uncharacteristically quiet. He scuffed the toe of his shoe agaisnt the pavement and had his arms folded over his chest, his mind somewhere far away. Harry couldn’t help the worried looks he kept sending Louis’ way, waiting for him to say something. Zayn was mumbling nonsense into the wind and it would have been enough to distract Harry if he wasn’t so concerned. 

The instant they were back inside Liam’s apartment, Harry followed Louis into the spare bedroom. He hovered by the door and watched Louis listlessly strip off his clothes until he was in a pair of blue boxers. Louis crawled onto the bed and under the covers, blinking up at Harry, looking smaller than Harry had seen him. 

Louis patted the space next to him, “C’mere.”

Harry tugged off his own clothes, keeping on a white undershirt and red boxers. He got underneath the covers and there was a foot of space between them on the mattress. It was maddening and Harry needed to get his hands on the other man. He wanted to haul him close and wipe away the wrinkle that etched its wat between his eyebrows. 

“Can I…” Harry drawled off, slowly inching towards Louis. 

Louis was the one to close the distance between them, burrowing into Harry’s chest and tangling their legs together. Harry exhaled, feeling tension leave his body at the feeling of Louis against him. He circled his arms around Louis’ frame and adorned his temple with soft presses of his lips. Louis visibly relaxed, curling into Harry’s body and letting out a sated sigh. 

“Are you okay?” Harry quietly asked, feeling that anything louder would shatter the safe cocoon they built. 

“I did remember him.” 

Harry stilled his fingers as they carded through Louis’ hair. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Louis sighed. He toyed with the cotton fabric of Harry’s shirt, “I jus’ wanted him to be gone before you got back.” Louis bitterly laughed, “Obviously, that didn’t happen.” 

Harry frowned, “Why before I got back?”

Louis slightly pulled back and fixed Harry with an unimpressed look, “You wanna meet someone I’ve slept with?”

Harry coughed into his fist and sat upright, feeling naïve that he didn’t already make the connection. 

“Fuck,” Louis sat up and rubbed his hand over Harry’s back. “Did – Harry, did ya really not get that?”

“No!” Harry hissed at him, his cheeks coloring crimson. “How the hell would I have gotten that?!”

Louis groaned and slumped back onto the mattress, “See, this is what I didn’t want to happen.”

“How – Lou,” Harry fidgeted with his hands in his lap, “How many guys have you been with?”

Louis was quiet for a moment before he said, “Does it matter?”

Harry shrugged, “M’ not gonna judge you.”

“You’re already judgin’ me.”

“Am not,” Harry swiveled so he could see Louis, “I was just surprised. By all of it.” He sighed and gripped Louis’ waist, “Think it’s safe to assume that whatever you say, I’m still gonna want you.” 

Louis worried his lip between his teeth and looked up at the ceiling before glancing back at Harry.

“Seven.” 

Harry attempted to school his expression at the anvil of knowledge. He turned to look at the wall across from the bed, rationalizing that it wasn’t a big number. It just happened to be seven more people than Harry had slept with. He knew that Niall had slept with a girl before, spending one of his afternoons listening to the man rant about it for hours. It was normal. 

“Ok. Um, nice.”

_Nice?_

Louis laughed and sat back up, hooking his chin over Harry’s shoulder. He kissed Harry’s neck, “Nice? Really?”

“Well,” Harry clenched his eyes shut and exhaled. “I mean, no. It’s not nice cos then I can’t have that – I mean, um.” His skin was overheated with embarrassment and he resolutely decided on, “M’ not judging you for not being a virgin.” 

“Sure?” Louis pressed, wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle.

Harry honestly said, “Yeah.”

“And you know I wouldn’t push you to do anythin’ you didn’t want, right?” Louis seriously asked, pulling back to properly look at Harry.

Harry nodded, “I know that.” 

“Good,” Louis chirped and kissed Harry’s cheek before lying back done. “Now, sleep. M’ tired.”

Harry grinned as he shuffled back down and was nose to nose with Louis. His eyes shut when Louis carded his fingers through Harry’s limp hair. 

“Have you got curly hair?” Louis mused, sounding far too pleased with the discovery.

“Yeah,” Harry laughed and sleepily blinked at Louis. “Mama has me wax it back to look neat.”

Louis hummed in understanding and quietly said, “I like it like this. S’ quirky.”

“Quirky?” Harry gaped, a surprised laugh spilling out. 

“Quirky,” Louis affirmed, twirling one of the curls with his finger. 

Harry tucked his leg between Louis’, “What’re we gonna do tomorrow?” 

“Could go to the park for a bit.”

“There’s a park in Atlanta?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Yes, there is a park in Atlanta.”

“Is this a date?” 

Louis thumbed over Harry’s jawline and grinned, “It can be.”

Harry turned into Louis’ palm and kissed the soft skin there, not bothering to fight off the butterflies that were wildly busting inside his ribcage. He cheekily smiled, “It should be.”

“Okay,” Louis nodded, trace of laughter in his voice, “It’s a date.”

Harry’s eyes darted from Louis’ to his mouth, subconsciously wetting his lip with the tip of his tongue. Louis followed the movement, pupils dilating. He pushed himself upright and hovered over Harry, one hand flush against the mattress and the other carefully rested against the column of Harry’s throat. 

“Kiss me,” Harry murmured under his breath. 

Louis ducked down and brought their lips together. They reverently moved against another in a cycle of firm kisses and light brushes of their mouths. Harry noticed that the main difference between kissing Louis and women was that he wasn’t scared of breaking Louis. He wanted to press in close to Louis’ sturdy frame and could hungrily do so without worrying that it was too much. It was more intoxicating than any drink Harry had ever consumed. Wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist, Harry tilted his head to the side and flicked his tongue along the seam of Louis’ lips. Louis parted his mouth and met Harry halfway, teasingly dipping their tongues together. A low mewl broke Harry’s voice, pulling both men out of the slight frenzy they were building. 

As much as Harry wanted Louis, he wasn’t ready for…All of _that_.

Resting back on his side, Louis pressed a final kiss to Harry’s lips before gesturing for him to spin around. Harry flipped on his side, facing away from Louis and practically purred when the other man spooned him. He let out a sated sigh and snuggled back, holding Louis’ arm close to his chest. 

“Goodnight, Lou.”

“Night, baby.”

Harry wasn’t sure how long it took his heartrate to calm down enough for him to sleep. 

****

“Favorite food?” 

“Strawberries.”

“Seriously?”’

Harry laughed at Louis’ unimpressed expression, “Yeah, seriously.” He rubbed his thumb over Louis’ knuckle, “You?”

“Chocolate cake,” Louis impishly grinned. 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Shoulda figured.”

They were huddled underneath a sycamore tree in a recluse section of Grant Park, picnic blanket stretched out underneath them. Louis easily guided them through the city until they made it to the park, prattling over different stories whenever Harry pressed for details. Harry watched the way Louis’ mouth curled into a grin anytime he was recalling a story of Zayn’s and his, clear adoration and mischief covering his words. After an hour of meandering, Harry saw a dirt path that led away from the main park. With an impish grin, he quickly tugged Louis in that direction and they found the sycamore. 

Everything with Louis was surprisingly easier than with anyone else he had ever dated. There weren’t false pretenses and Harry knew that whenever he spoke, Louis wasn’t seeing dollar signs hung above his head. Where they were pressed against the wide trunk of the tree, Harry could even hold Louis’ hand out of view. It was the perfect day. Lolling his head back to look up the length of the tree, Harry got an idea.

“D’you have a pocket-knife?” 

“Why?” Louis cautiously narrowed his eyes. “Are you gonna off me?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Even if I was, why would I tell ya?”

“Fair point,” Louis shrugged and tugged a silver pocket-knife from his trousers. 

“Thanks,” Harry chirped as he took the device and flicked it open. 

Louis watched him with a confused smile as Harry turned to face the tree. He rested on his knees and started to dig into the tree, tongue poked out in concentration. Harry knew the moment that Louis understood what he was doing because a heavy exhale poured from his lips and his hands tightly gripped Harry’s waist. Once he finished, Harry cocked his head to the side and leaned back onto his haunches. 

“There,” Harry exhaled, turning to look at Louis. “Now it’s our tree.” 

“Harry,” Louis disbelievingly shook his head, one of his most private grins slowly blossoming over his expression. 

Taking a quick look around, Louis lunged forward and kissed Harry, knocking them back. Both of them grinned into the embrace and Harry pulled Louis into his lap. His back rested against the base of the tree. Just above the two men, eternally carved into the bark, was, _L.T. & H.S._


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lied...I am the one crying.

“I don’t wanna go back.”

“I know, Stud.”

Louis continued to card his hand through Harry’s hair, nimble fingers gently loosening bedhead knots. Harry blinked up at the older man as Louis pushed the limp tresses away from his forehead. The meat of Louis’ thigh acted as a pillow for his head that Sunday morning. A crackled hum of a radio filtered underneath the crack of the door, Liam and Zayn’s voices murmuring a hushed accompaniment. 

When the two of them came back from their date at the park, the four men collectively decided to stay in for the evening. Harry was tucked underneath Louis’ arm as they sucked on cigars and traded listless thoughts. Their backs rested against the foot of the sofa, legs extended and tangled together. Louis’ hands were steady as they caressed Harry’s shoulder with lethargic strokes. Liam pattered through the kitchen, cooking chicken breasts and grits for them as Zayn set the table. Harry wordlessly watched the pair as they floated around each other with ease, exchanging small touched against wrists and waists. 

Harry lucidly dreamed of him traipsing through a small kitchen, feet moving over worn floorboards with a practiced ease that comes from memory. He would look over his shoulder to see Louis swaying in place to a spinning record, beryl irises flickering from the titles that lined the album’s jacket to Harry’s gaze. Harry would flush and turn back towards the stovetop, grin stretched over his mouth as he listened to the delicate lilt of Louis’ voice over a Benny Goodman track.

Louis had caught him dreaming, his voice pulling Harry from his revere. He nosed against Harry’s temple and exhaled, “One day.” 

Alone, the two words would have been vague to any other person. To Harry, they were a promise. 

They ate around the tattered table, chilled beers in hand and friendly banter rolling in the air. Zayn’s attitude towards Harry had simmered and was a far cry from how it had been at the diner. It seemed that Harry was not the only one more than relieved by the change. Liam had a pleased smile on his puppy face, light dancing over his eyes as he rested his hands behind his head. Louis wasn’t much better, looking obscenely proud of himself as he coaxed conversation between Harry and Zayn. Well, that was until the two men teamed up and teased Louis mercilessly for his blatant efforts. With a clink of their cans, Harry and Zayn laughed as they cheered, an unspoken comradery budding between them. 

That night, Louis hovered over his body with plush lips lightly dragging over the column of Harry’s throat. Murmured whispers of adoration blanketed the room in warmth. Harry couldn’t be positive whose mouths the sentiments were falling from by the time the moon hung directly overhead in a star-speckled sky. After a final brush of their lips, Harry fell asleep with his body curled around Louis’. He woke up to the faint pepper of kisses that Louis was pressing to the height of his cheekbone. A flush painted Harry’s cheeks and he burrowed into the crook of Louis’ neck, only moving when Louis left to get a glass of water. When Louis returned, he pulled Harry’s head into his lap and hummed to the muted rhythm that purred from Liam’s radio. 

Harry’s bottom lip jutted out, “When can we come back?” 

A fond smile pulled the corner of Louis’ mouth, “Whenever you want.” 

“Whenever, huh?” Harry teased, pushing himself upright.

Louis lifted an eyebrow and playfully amended, “Within reason.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes and crawled into Louis’ lap in a feline matter, thighs bracketing Louis’ hips. Louis easily rested his hands along the dip of his waist, thumbs pressing into the soft skin. The torturous words that his subconscious pelted at him were subdued by Louis’ grasp, by his mouth. Every touch felt as if Harry was feeding a part of himself that had been neglected the past eighteen years. He wanted to drink Louis in until he satisfied the craving, but with every kiss, he only ached for more. Possibly, Harry would never reach the point where he didn’t want more of Louis. 

Cupping Louis’ jaw with his palms, Harry slowly caressed his cheekbone. Louis’ eyelashes kissed his skin as he closed his eyes, head lolling into the feeling. Freckles dotted over his complexion and Harry found that he wanted to count each one. Arching his spine, Harry lulled his eyes shut and brought their mouths together. 

Louis hummed into his mouth, tilting his head back to better meet Harry’s. He cradled Louis as close as possible, pressing their chests together and tightly hugging the other man with his thighs. A sigh slipped from his lips and Louis was instantly swallowing it, chasing the sound with a flick of his tongue. Harry mewled into the sensation of Louis’ tongue sliding along his own. 

Wet breaths were exchanged between the two of them, growing heavier with every kiss. Harry lightly sucked on Louis’ tongue and smirked when Louis breathily moaned in response. Louis quickly nipped his bottom lip, tugging the smirk right from Harry’s mouth. Heat bloomed from the center of his gut and he knew that he had to pull back soon if he didn’t want things to progress. Louis must have been able to read him like a well-worn novel, because he suckled on Harry’s lip and then let go to lean back. Harry roughly panted and Louis rested their foreheads together. 

Harry kept his eyes closed as he whispered, “Can we please jus’ stay here?”

“Baby,” Louis heavily sighed, sounding as pained as Harry felt. He pecked Harry’s lips and minutely shook his head, “You know we can’t do that.” 

Of course he knew that, but hearing reality be confirmed didn’t stop him from slumping over. Harry tucked his head into the dip of Louis’ shoulder as the other man started to rub his back. 

“I won’t get this when we go back.”

Louis’ movements faltered, “What’d ya mean?” 

“Like,” Harry shrugged, “M’ not gonna be able to sleep with you. Wake up with you.” He clenched his eyes and uselessly shrugged again, “Jus’ be with you like we have been here.” 

Louis lightly laughed, “You’re makin’ it sound like I won’t see ya.”

Harry snuffed, “It won’t be the same, though.”

“Harry…I don’t want you to take this the wrong way –”

Harry jerked back, eyebrows already pulled together before Louis finished. 

“Now don’t look at me like that,” Louis sighed, smoothing over Harry’s worry lines with his thumb. He dropped his hand, “I wanna make sure we’re not gonna move too fast.” 

“Too fast?” Harry drawled out and folded his arms over his chest. 

Louis nodded and ran his hands over Harry’s arms. He rocked forward and kissed Harry’s Adams apple. A puff of air fanned over Harry’s skin as he exhaled, “You want us to work out, yeah?”

“Obviously,” He easily responded with a tinge of annoyance lacing the word. Harry narrowed his eyes, “I thought we both wanted that.” 

“We do. _I do_ ,” Louis rushed out, eyes widening. “Baby, I’m yours. I just – We should take it slow.”

“I – I don’t get it,” He mumbled, hating that their age difference was almost palpable in that moment. “Am I doing somethin’ wrong?”

“No, no,” Louis shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, “M’ not explaining it clearly.” He dropped his hand, “I feel like everythin’ else in your life is movin’ quickly. Always has. I mean, your mama was practically sendin’ out wedding invitations after one date with Faye,” He squeezed Harry’s shoulders then rested his weight back on one hand. Louis pointedly looked between their bodies, “I don’t want us to be like that.” 

Harry frowned at the comparison, “This is nothin’ like that.”

“I know, Stud,” Louis nodded and petted over Harry’s chest. “I just don’t wanna jump into things too fast when we’ve only just started goin’ steady,” He murmured. Louis tilted his head to the side, “You’re talkin’ about sleepin’ and waking up together – Harry, that’s not somethin’ we should already be worrying about. It’s still the beginning, yeah? Let’s enjoy the falling bit instead of being sad over things like that.” 

“The falling bit?” He asked, voice quieter than before. 

“Yeah,” Louis softly said, tender smile jaunting the corner of his mouth, “The bit where we get to fall for each other.”

Heat flushed through his cheeks and he looked down, hands fidgeting in his lap. The corner of his lips twitched upwards until they were unfurrowing into a toothy grin, “Yeah, okay. The falling bit.”

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle and let out a nearly inaudible sigh. Harry circled his arms over Louis’ shoulders and minutely rocked them from side to side. 

“M’ yours, too,” Harry mumbled. He pressed his lips against Louis’ temple, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded and nuzzled into Harry’s neck, “I know, baby.”

****

For someone who was meant to be taking things slowly, Harry found himself thinking of Louis more times than not during the following four days. The moment Zayn dropped him off at the Dempsey’s parking lot, a part of Harry already ached to clamber back inside the truck and kiss Louis goodbye for a third time. It was an incessant trill that unnervingly kept him on edge, making him restless during his lessons at the plantation. When he shadowed his father at the firm, his attention would narrow on a painting that hung above his father’s desk because the swooping paintbrush strokes reminded him of Louis’ eyelashes.

It wasn’t necessarily dependency that he was feeling. Or, at least Harry didn’t _think_ it was. What it came down to was the indisputable fact that Louis had become his favorite person. Harry didn’t see why he should waste his time with anyone else. Especially when other people involved his parents and Faye. 

On his third day back from Atlanta, Harry begrudgingly found himself sitting on a stiff chair in the center of the Mason’s manicured garden. Due to a reason that was beyond Harry, the two families had decided that brunch was in order. It was positively ridiculous seeing as how it was a Wednesday afternoon and Harry reckoned that there wasn’t any legitimate reason to be toasting with lavish champagne. Nevertheless, he played the part that he had been groomed for since infancy. Harry politely smiled at the correct cues, tossed in a laugh at Mrs. Mason’s quips and openly admired Mr. Mason’s business plans. He barely paid any mind to Faye, but, Harry internally reasoned that nobody could be perfect. At the end of the night, he kissed the women’s cheeks and shook Mr. Mason’s hand. 

His parents were thrilled. 

Come Friday evening, Harry was intently staring at the grandfather clock. His bottom lip was sucked between his teeth and a set of keys twitchily jingled between his fingers. He rocked his weight from foot to foot, polished shoes picking up a reflection of an overhead chandelier. Once the smaller hand slid over the number nine, Harry sprinted from the foyer. The clock rang out in his wake, his mother’s voice shrilling not far off. Harry didn’t bother to stop, the first genuine smile slipping onto his face at the knowledge that he was about to see Louis. 

When Louis and Zayn expressed interest in going to Harry’s next gig, he was quick to offer them a ride. He sped the entire way to the garage, humid air licking over his skin as crickets sang. A slick onyx jacket clung to his shoulders, tugging over his muscles as he turned the steering wheel. Dirt puffed up into a cloud of smoke when he jerked to a halt in the parking lot. Smoothing his hands over the lapels of his suit, Harry looked out the driver window. 

Zayn was the first to appear from the mouth of the center garage, easily smiling as he strolled towards Harry’s truck. His coveralls had been exchanged for a pair of charcoal slacks and a black button down. Harry enthusiastically waved, feeling a hint of warmth that had been absent since their return filling his body.

“Hey, Harry,” Zayn half-saluted and turned on his heel. He cupped his hands around his mouth, “C’mon, Lou! Stop messin’ with yer hair!” 

There was an indignant squawk from inside, pulling deep laughs from Harry and Zayn’s guts. Zayn looked back at Harry and winked, “He hasn’t shut up ‘bout this all day.” 

Harry sat up a bit straighter at the news, his teeth poking into his bottom lip. He looked over Zayn’s shoulder then back to the other man, “Really?”

Zayn nodded and walked towards the passenger door, “Proper smitten with ya.”

“Whatever Zayn’s sayin’, it’s absolute bullshit!” 

Harry felt his cheeks ache with how wide he was smiling. His attention snapped back towards the front of Dempsey’s to see Louis ambling from the garage, hands fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. He looked up at Harry, a nervous smile twitching the corners of his lips as he walked closer. Harry’s jaw slackened at the sight of his boyfriend in a tailored black suit. 

Louis’ hair was styled with matte wax, the caramel tendrils artfully styled to the right. A crisp button-down peeked out from behind his fitted jacket, all of the pearly buttons fastened except for the top two. His onyx shoes gleamed underneath the moonlight. His cheeks were freshly shaved, just a faint dusting of a shadow left behind. Harry let out a breathless laugh. Everything about Louis was perfect. 

Opening the door, Harry slid out and met Louis halfway. A foot of space separated the toes of their shoes. His eyes darted over the Louis’ face, catching the dollops of doubt that covered his cheeks. 

Louis lifted a shoulder and gestured towards his outfit, “I know it’s not as, like, _nice_ as stuff ya got, but –” 

“You look gorgeous.” 

Harry’s chest was heaving, the words easily punching out of him. He watched the way doubt was replaced with bashfulness along Louis’ features, the skin by his eyes crinkling. Louis ducked his head down and bit back a beam. Glimpsing towards the empty road and back to Louis, Harry quickly rocked forwards and kissed Louis on the cheek. It was chaste, but it was enough to extinguish the itch that had been crawling over Harry’s skin for the past week. Louis’ mouth formed a pink oval and he blinked up at Harry, starlight dancing in his irises. 

“Why’re you all dressed up?” Harry asked, his thumb brushing over Louis’ silver cufflink. He cocked his head to the side, “Don’t usually wear a suit to the club.”

Louis flashed him an impish wink, “Well I wasn’t seeing my _boyfriend_ perform them other times, now was I?”

Harry’s tongue poked out as he let out a tiny pleased laugh. He shook his head, “No, no you were not.” 

“Exactly,” Louis chirped. He rolled his shoulders back with a bravado, “Still gotta impress you, Stud. S’pecially when there’s boutta be a bunch of girls on you tonight.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “That’s not true.” 

Louis scoffed, “You didn’t hear ‘em all whispering like I did the night we met.”

“Well,” Harry shrugged, “I don’t care ‘bout them.” 

“Oh yeah?” Louis drawled, trying for nonchalance but Harry still heard a twinge of smugness. When Harry easily nodded, Louis grinned, “Good.”

“I know I’m s’posed to take stuff slowly,” Harry mumbled, a playful timbre to his voice, “But…Um. I missed you. A lot.” 

He looked up from the gravel to see Louis watching him with a sheer amount of warmth that couldn’t be rivaled by a thousand burning suns. Louis cupped Harry’s jaw and raised himself to the balls of his feet, mouth hovering aside Harry’s ear, “Missed you, baby.” 

Harry exhaled, his shoulders sagging and he turned his cheek to gently knock their heads together. Louis slowly lowered himself and thumbed over his shoulder, “Ready?”

Once the three of them were piled inside the truck, Harry pulled out of the parking lot. Streetlamps hazily illuminated the main road and raucous laughter filtered from local bars. Zayn was perched in middle of the backseat, leaning forward so he was practically upfront with Harry and Louis. He was restlessly fidgeting with the radio, static uselessly pouring from the speakers. 

“Buddy,” Louis groaned after a moment, smacking Zayn’s hand away, “Give it a rest.”

Zayn let out a disgruntled huff and flicked it off. He slumped back into the seat, “What’s the point of havin’ a radio when there’s no reception out here anyhow?” 

Harry shrugged, “S’ not bad up by the plantation.” 

“But you’re not listenin’ to your car radio when you’re home,” Zayn pointedly said. 

Louis swiftly reached back and thwacked Zayn in the arm, “Don’t go insultin’ the driver’s car, dickhead.” 

Zayn flicked Louis in the forehead, making Harry snicker and Louis let out an offended yelp. 

“S’okay,” Harry looked over the center counsel towards Louis, “He’s not wrong.” 

“Thank you, Harry,” Zayn snuffed, smacking the back of Louis’ head.

Louis batted Zayn’s hands away and then promptly folded his arms. Harry didn’t have to look over to know Louis was glaring at him. 

“Last time I try to defend you, Stud.” 

Harry laughed and shook his head, “We both know that’s not true.” 

“Is too,” Louis childishly snipped. 

“Is not,” Both Harry and Zayn chimed in unison. 

Louis was muttering something about betrayal as Harry parked the truck in the filling lot. The luxury cars that surrounded them were already spilling out with lushly dressed patrons. Gaudy jewels cocooned women’s fingers and ropes of pearls circled their dainty throats. The men were uniformed with puffing cigars and tailored suits, impressive mustaches curling over lips. Harry tightly grinned at one of the regulars before turning to look at Louis and Zayn. 

“I gotta go backstage when we get in, but I’ll find y’all after, yeah?”

Zayn nodded and Louis subtly pursed his lips. Harry blew a kiss back, fondness swarming inside his chest. Climbing out of the truck, they walked towards the club’s entrance and waited in the small queue. The itch to touch Louis was clawing Harry’s bloodstream, but he knew that he had to be careful. A few hidden grazes inside the dimmed sections of the club would go unrecognized however, anything more could be detrimental. Resisting temptation, Harry shoved his hands into the satin lining of his pockets and kept his eyes set forward. 

Louis nudged his side as they stepped forwards, “Is she gonna be here tonight?”

Harry didn’t have to ask who Louis meant. 

“I really fuckin’ hope not.”

“If she is and comes up to ya,” Louis lowered his voice and waited for Harry to look at him, “M’ not gonna hang around.”

Harry’s mouth instantly turned downwards, brows pulling together. He shook his head, “Don’t just leave me with her.” 

Louis quirked an eyebrow, “You can’t expect me to wanna see that.”

“Lou,” Harry shuffled forwards and hushed his voice, “Don’t leave.” 

Louis’ mouth formed a straight line and he turned to face forwards. Under his breath, but loud enough to be heard, he muttered, “That’s not fair.”

“I – We don’t even know if she’s gonna come,” Harry rushed out, feeling slightly on edge that the night would be ruined before it started. 

“How ‘bout,” Zayn cut in, pulling Harry and Louis’ attention to him, “If she shows up and talks to Harry, Lou and I head to the bar. Harry shakes her loose and we all go somewhere else.” He lifted an eyebrow and looked between them, “Sounds fair to me.” 

In that moment, Harry was exceptionally grateful to have Zayn’s support. 

“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, looking to Louis. “Can we just do that?”

Louis’ tensed posture lessened as he agreed, “Okay.” 

Flashing ID’s to Paul, they pushed their way inside. A heady culmination of brass and smoke immediately engulfed them. Harry stood behind Louis and tried for subtlety as he pushed swaying bodies away from the slighter man. They trekked towards the bar, Louis weaseling his way to the lip of the surface with ease. Harry pinched Louis’ waist and tilted his head towards the stage. 

“Good luck, Stud,” Louis said over the noise, a smirk playing along the curve of his lips. 

Harry flushed and took a step back, “I’ll see you after?”

“Yeah,” Louis nodded and made space for Zayn to sidle up next to him. 

Harry kept his eyes on Louis’ profile for a moment more before he started towards the stage. He offered apologetic close-lipped smiles as he bumped into couples. A relieved sigh left his mouth when he didn’t see a trace of Faye dotting around the bar. Finally stepping backstage, Harry looked over the crowded space for Niall. Even though there was a new underlying tension that Harry felt when he was with Niall, he didn’t want to lose one of his only friends. He caught sight of the other man, a halo of tobacco smoke circling his body. 

“Niall!” Harry called out, slipping between stage hands to make it to the other musician. 

Niall looked over his shoulder and exhaled a puff, his eyes flickering with a hint of hurt that Harry hadn’t seen before. Harry slightly faltered in step, but didn’t stop until he was stood towards the man’s right. 

“Hey,” He cautiously greeted, his hands fidgeting together. 

Niall wordlessly nodded and offered Harry a whisky. Harry slowly took the offered glass and tipped it back, swallowing half of the amber liquid. There was a brooding silence that stretched between them. 

“Did I do somethin’ to piss you off?” 

Harry roughly coughed at Niall’s bluntness, his eyes going wide. He scratched the side of his neck with a fingernail and scrunched his nose, “Uh…What?”

“You’ve been actin’ weird the past month,” Niall slumped against the brick wall. He flicked ash into a nearby tray, “Ya never come ‘round anymore. I dropped by on Friday and your mamma said you were off in Atlanta with someone named Tomlinson.” Niall pointedly narrowed his eyes, “Who I’ve met and know is a mechanic, but for some reason, your mamma thinks is in lumber.” 

Panic rose in Harry’s throat as he barely got out, “I –”

“Not to mention,” Niall wildly failed his hands out as he spoke over Harry, “You jus’ up an’ left before a performance! Right after I said somethin’ about Faye.” Niall shook his head and looked up at Harry, sadness dipping into his creased forehead, “And I dunno know what I did wrong.”

Harry vehemently shook his head, unable to have Niall, the human embodiment of sunshine, staring at him as if his dog had died. He gripped the short hairs along the back of his neck and racked his brain for an acceptable explanation. They had never talked about homosexuals before. Not any time that Harry recalled, anyways. Of course, Niall had used slurs in passing, but so did Harry before his revelation. He didn’t know how Niall would react if he knew the truth. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, swear,” He eventually said, his voice sounding feeble to his own ears. 

Niall narrowed his eyes, “Then what’s been goin’ on with you?” He pointed a finger at Harry’s chest, “And no lying.”

“I – My parents are gonna try to make me marry Faye.” 

It wasn’t what Harry had intended on saying, but it was a slice of truth that he could afford to admit. 

Niall’s eyes widened, “Already?” 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “It’s been drivin’ me mad. I have to take her to dinner and – We’ve been spendin’ time with the Masons.” He tugged on the cuff of his jacket and tacked on, “I hate it.” 

“M’ sorry,” Niall quietly said. “I didn’t think it was that serious.” 

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, well.”

“Are you not gonna go through with it?” Niall carefully pressed.

Harry tugged on his bottom lip and thought about Louis who was just a couple of hundred feet away. A mountain of guilt piled inside his gut as he minutely shook his head, “Don’t think I have a choice.” 

If possible, Niall looked even more upset than before. He quickly shifted his weight from foot to foot, “But – We could always find you some other bird –”

“Don’t want any bird,” Harry instinctively cut him off, his voice low. 

Niall closed his mouth, eyes slowly looking over Harry’s face as if he was working something out. Heat pinched Harry’s cheeks, panicking that maybe he had given too much away. The other musicians started to trickle from the corridor to the stage. Taking everyone’s departure as an excuse, Harry cleared his throat and finished off the whiskey with a smack of his lips. 

“M’ gonna get on stage and warm up.” 

“Wait, Harry,” Niall sputtered, reaching out and just missing Harry’s wrist. 

Harry stiffly waved over his shoulder, “Talk later.”

He quickly weaved through the curtain and onto stage, temporarily blinded by overhead lights. A boisterous crowd already budded along the dancefloor, glistening from humidity and anticipation. Harry prayed that they couldn’t see the way terror festered inside of his gut. Sitting on the accustomed piano bench, his fingers shook as they trailed over the keys. Glimpsing towards the left, he saw Niall watching him with a prominent pinch between his brows. Harry snapped his head towards Nicholas at the front of the stage and unevenly exhaled. 

“Oi!” 

Harry turned towards the familiar voice and squinted as he scanned the front of the crowd. Louis was elbowing his way to the front without much grace, if any at all. A subconscious smile tugged the corner of Harry’s mouth as he saw Zayn dutifully trailing behind his best friend. Louis stopped at the foot of the stage, directly next to Harry’s bench and was smiling up at him. 

Louis cocked his head to the side, “Okay?” 

Barely fighting the urge to look in Niall’s direction, Harry nodded, “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” Louis narrowed his eyes. “Looked a bit peaky from back there.”

An odd sense of relief coursed through Harry’s body from knowing that Louis was able to accurately read his emotions. He was obligated to pretend to feel something he didn’t in front of everyone else, but Louis understood him. 

Harry grimaced, “I’ll tell you later.” 

“Okay,” Louis nodded and offered a reassured smile, “’Til then…Kick some ass, Stud.”

A laugh fell from Harry’s mouth on its own accord and he was pulled back to reality at the sound of Nicholas tapping the pads of his fingers against the mic. 

“Welcome, welcome, pals and gals to The Cotton Club!” Nicholas exuberantly greeted with his arms spread wide and Cheshire Cat grin smacked on his face. “Ah, shucks, folks,” He bowed his head at the deafening applause that echoed back and faux-waved them off in humbleness. “We gotta a treat for all the Jims and Peggie Sous out there tonight!”

Harry felt calmness saturate him at Nicholas’ greetings, effortlessly slipping into his element. 

“All the fellas up on stage with me are gonna make ya wanna swing and shout and turn all about the floor on this summer evenin’,” Nicholas carried on, raising his hands above his head. He strutted towards the grand piano, resting his hip against the instrument. “On piano we got our very own Harry Styles,” Nicholas winked and gestured towards Harry.

With an easy wave, Harry greeted the room as a whole. He caught sight of Louis in the midst of the crowd, both of his index fingers hooked over his bottom lip to let out a sharp wolf-whistle. Harry breathily laughed and turned away before his affection would be too easily read. 

“Ready to take us away, Styles?” Nicholas finger-gunned. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Nicky,” Harry shouted back, 

Squaring his shoulders, he watched Nicholas’ opening eight-count before surging into an upbeat tune. Harry allowed himself to forget about everything other than the music. The sole of his shoe dutifully tapped against the stage in rhythm with the rest of the band. His eyes slipped shut as his hands flew across the piano in an assuredness that came from years of lessons. He was aware of the bodies twirling and twisting across the dancefloor, but didn’t truly pay any mind as the music consumed him. 

Once the final forte of the trumpet section shrilled into the evening, Nicholas flicked his baton and brought the set to a close. He gestured for the band to stand and only then did Harry finally look over the crowd. Hundreds of hands smacked together as applause roared. He pushed himself off of the bench and stood upright, hands clasped in a praying position as he bowed. Harry breathlessly giggled and straightened his spine, keeping eye contact with Louis as he blew a kiss to the crowd. Louis beamed back at him and Harry was sure not to miss the way Louis pursed his lips in response. 

As the band started to return backstage, Harry was reminded about his conversation with Niall. He hesitated by the lip of the stage before rashly jumping off the landing and onto the dancefloor. Different people clapped him on the back, wildly praising the band as he slithered through. Harry breathily expressed his gratitude, smile widening when he caught Louis’ gaze from twenty feet away. Adrenaline quickening his gait, Harry darted towards the other man. 

“You sounded so fuckin’ good!” Louis excitedly shouted.

Louis’ cheeks were flushed and his skin was dewy with sweat. The suit that clung to his frame was rumpled along his joints from dancing. His lips were bitten red and he was frenetically shifting his weight from side to side. All Harry wanted to do was kiss him. 

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry exhaled, feeling himself sway closer to the other man. 

“Well done, Harry!”

Harry jumped as an arm slug around his neck, relaxing into the touch once he recognized Zayn. 

He bashfully looked down at the tips of his shoes, “Thank you.”

Zayn nodded and took a long pull from his bourbon glass. He cleared his throat and pointedly looked around them before turning back to Harry.

“We haven’t seen ‘er at all.”

Relief washed over Harry at that, slumping into Zayn’s side. Louis didn’t bother to hide his own happiness, his eyes reduced to small slits from smiling so widely. 

“Wanna get drinks?” He asked, thumbing towards the bar. 

With the other two men in agreement, they ploughed through the crowd. Harry ordered Bourbon for Zayn, Highball for Louis and Southside for himself. Insisting that Louis and Zayn had practically paid for all of Atlanta, Harry footed the bill. Louis begrudgingly pouted, but didn’t fight Harry too hard on the matter. Once drinks were in hand, they shuffled towards a high-top table along the outline of the club. 

Louis brought the rim of his glass against Harry’s and quietly said, “To us.” 

The world tilted on its axis in that moment. Its movements decelerated and everything that wasn’t them dissipating into a muffled silence. 

“To us,” Harry murmured. 

A throat was cleared behind them, snapping Harry from the fragile moment. The earth continued to spin at a normal pace and layered voiced thickened the air. Harry looked over his shoulder, mouth parting at the sight of Niall hovering a few feet away. His eyes were trained where Harry and Louis’ glasses touched. Yanking his arm back, alcohol splashed over the lip of the glass. A slew of curses fumbled from his mouth as his hand was doused with the drink. 

“Sorry I – Um,” Niall reached out, snagging napkins from a dispenser. He patted at Harry’s hand, his cheeks probably just as ruddy as Harry’s. 

“S’okay,” Harry choked out, clearing his throat with an awkward cough. 

“Sorry,” Niall mumbled again, dropping the napkin. “Harry,” He glimpsed at Louis and Zayn, “Can we have a mo’?” 

As much as Harry did not want to be alone with Niall, he knew that there wouldn’t be any escaping it. He toyed with the idea of lying to his friend, but didn’t know if he would be able to manage it. Louis looked between the two of them, blatantly picking up on the line of tension than ran through Harry’s posture. 

“We’ll just,” Louis looked to Zayn as he fumbled for words, “Get a bit of air?”

Zayn wordlessly nodded and pulled a cigar from his breast pocket. Harry’s heart hammered inside his chest as Louis gave him a reassuring smile. His fingers dug into his thighs as Niall took Louis’ place. Niall rested his forearms against the tabletop and huddled forwards, looking between the wooden surface and Harry’s profile. 

“Look,” Niall started, his voice uncharacteristically serious, “You’re my best pal, Harry.”

The wave of guilt was back. 

“You’re mine, too,” Harry mumbled. 

Niall nodded, more so to himself as if he needed the reassurance. 

“Which means I know there’s somethin’ happenin’,” Niall frowned at his clasped hands. He shook his head and faced Harry, “And…I don’t think it’s just Faye.” 

Harry stared at what was left of his Southside, resolutely not meeting Niall’s eyes. 

“When did you stop trustin’ me?” 

He wanted to curl up in bed and cry at the amount of loss that smeared Niall’s tone. 

“Ni, I do –”

“Stop lying!” Niall practically shouted, snatching Harry’s attention. “You wanna hide shit from me? Fine,” He bitterly gritted. “Whenever you decide to be a good friend,” Niall disappointedly shook his head and stood from his chair, “Let me know.”

Harry gaped at Niall’s empty seat for what seemed like an endless stretch of minutes. Every word that Niall bit out managed to strangle Harry’s insides. When it came down to it, Niall wasn’t wrong. The sharp cut of his nails bled into the caps of his knees and the urge to flight climbed along the lining of his gut. Harry had been keeping truths from Niall since they met. He fostered the way how listening to Niall talk about money made him feel. He harbored the way he felt nothing towards the women Niall set him up with. Harry thoughtlessly swallowed the fact that he going steady with a man. There was never even the possibility of him telling Niall an ounce of truth because of his own self-induced fears. Harry cradled his head in his hands as it dawned upon him that he had never given Niall the chance to prove him wrong. 

“Stud, everythin’ alright?”

Harry shook his head, feeling his throat constrict his words. 

“Hey,” Louis lowered his voice and hovered directly by Harry’s side. The tip of his elbow brushed Harry’s, “Harry, c’mon, what’s going on?” 

Harry ground his teeth together and felt an ache build along his jawline. 

“We should go,” Zayn’s voice carried over the voices in Harry’s head. 

“Yeah,” Louis agreed and delicately touched Harry’s bicep. “Do you wanna come to my place?”

Harry nodded and let his palms heavily slip from his face. Although tears started to sting his eyes, he refused to cry. He couldn’t do that. Louis was watching him was a palpable amount of worry, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Numbly, Harry stood from the stool and walked towards the exit. He didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know that Louis and Zayn were closely following behind him. Fishing his keys from his pocket, Harry offered them to Louis. 

“You can just drop me at the shop,” Zayn mumbled. 

A wave of gratitude passed over Harry, knowing that he wouldn’t have to explain himself in front of Zayn. Even though their relationship had significantly improved, he didn’t want Zayn to hang around. Harry wanted Louis. 

The drive to the shop was quiet, no one bothering to hold surface-level conversation. Harry’s eyes blankly attached to the horizon of passing farmland. Fireflies flickered over crops in delicate bursts of light. Under any other circumstance, he would have asked Louis to pull over so they could run around like schoolchildren and catch them in mason jars. 

“Night, fellas,” Zayn quietly said as he climbed out of the truck. 

Louis said something in response, but Harry wasn’t really listening. 

“Baby?”

That was enough to finally get Harry to look over the center counsel. 

Frown-lines carved along the edges of Louis’ mouth. He reached over and held his hand over, palm faced upwards. Harry felt the knots of his spine untangle as he threaded his fingers with Louis’. A twitch quirked the right side of Louis’ lips and then he reassuringly squeezed Harry’s hand.

It wasn’t until fifteen minutes later when the truck halted in front of a rundown house that Harry realized he was about to see Louis’ home for the first time. A thick blanket of trees covered the property as if they were protecting it from the prying eyes of the outside world. Slats of wood were painted white, the liquor chipped in a few places, but not many. A rickety porch circled the front and Harry had an inkling that Louis constructed it himself. Louis brought their joint hands to his mouth and kissed the back of Harry’s knuckles before slipping away. Harry felt the adoration that poured from Louis’ lips and chased the raw emotion as he scrambled from the passenger seat. 

“Mind you, it isn’t much since it’s just me livin’ here,” Louis mumbled while sliding a key into the bronze lock. “Nothin’ special like the plantation.”

Harry crowded behind Louis and tucked his head into the crook of his neck. Tension seeped from his body as he kissed Louis’ pulse point. He shook his head, “It’s yours. That makes it special.” 

Louis faintly chuckled and pushed the front door open to lead them inside. 

Similar to the exterior of the house, the main floor was quaint. Harry stepped from behind Louis and slowly treaded over sanded floorboards. It was an open floor plan, entryway extending into a kitchen and living area. An emerald couch was tucked along the right wall, a faded swirling pattern of yellow flowers intertwining along the cushions. Perched on a wooden coffee table was a dog eared collection of Robert Frost’s poetry. A half-empty mug of coffee rested by the spine of the well-worn book. 

The walls were painted with a subdued lemon pigment, unintentionally dousing the indoors with mock-sunshine. Harry traced the tips of his fingers over the counterpace as he carefully walked through the kitchenette. Above a cream sink was a rectangular window, bordered by cherry curtains. A row of cerulean plates were lined in a drying rack by the right of the sink and small collection of spices were uniformed along the windowsill. 

“M’ gonna get changed,” Louis quietly said, dragging Harry’s sightline from a cookbook. He tilted his head towards a staircase, “Did you wanna borrow somethin’?” 

Harry nodded and stepped away from the shelf. He followed Louis upstairs, sweat trickling along the bare of his neck as heat climbed with them. 

Louis pointed towards a door on the right, “Bathroom is through there if ya need.”

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled, his voice slightly scratchy. 

Louis opened the adjacent door and stood to the side as Harry walked into the bedroom. Unlike downstairs, the walls were robin’s egg blue. He ducked through the entryway and eyed the small collection of objects that were placed about the tiny space. A queen-sized bed was nestled against the corner, white duvet messily stretched atop the mattress. There was single-door wardrobe to the left, the hinges hanging at a slightly uneven keel. 

As Louis strode towards the wardrobe, Harry’s eyes were drawn to a bedside table. He stepped closer and picked up a framed photograph that sat beside a stack of envelopes. Pressed tightly together were six people with remarkably similar features. Harry’s lips went slack as his thumb brushed over Louis’ smiling face. 

“That’d be the family.”

Harry quickly turned towards Louis, the other man watching him with a mixture of fondness and melancholy. He lifted the photograph and cocked his head to the side, “You never mentioned any siblings.”

Louis lifted a shoulder and dropped two pairs of pajama bottoms onto the mattress. His eyes were focused on the photograph as he walked closer.

“I don’t talk about them much cos, well, that’s when I miss ‘em.” 

All at once, a parade of questions pushed their way to the forefront of Harry’s mind. Louis scrubbed a hand through his hair and sat along the edge of the bed, forearms resting on the tops of his thighs. Harry silently sat next to him with the frame clutched in his hands. He stared at the woman who proudly sat in the center of the photograph. She had deep smile lines and thick hair that hung in loose waves. It was undoubtedly Louis’ mother and Harry wasn’t sure how he could look at her face without feeling a burst of anger for the man by his side. 

“Do – Um, do you _want_ to talk about them?” Harry hesitantly asked. 

Louis pinched his bottom lip and Harry could practically see the clogs churning inside his head. After a moment, he minutely nodded. Honesty poured into his words as he looked Harry straight in the eyes and told him, “I want you to know everything about me.”

A flare of heat that Harry had come to associate with Louis, flowered inside the center of his chest. 

“When your mamma walked in on,” Harry quietly began, pointedly pausing as he lifted his eyebrows, “Did your siblings find out, too?”

“One of them, Charlotte,” Louis started, pointing to the young woman with wide eyes by his left in the picture, “Knew all along.” 

“Really?” Harry asked with surprise evident in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Louis nodded and Harry didn’t miss the smile in his voice. “She was always real perceptive, ya know? Probably helped that she was my best friend growin’ up since we were closest in age.”

Harry hummed and looked back at the three other girls in the photo. 

“What about them?”

Louis barely hesitated before he pointed to another woman who was similar in appearance to Charlotte, but noticeably younger. 

“Félicité didn’t know until mamma started shouting all over the house,” Louis practically whispered. Harry tried to swallow down the information as Louis pointed to a set of identical girls and finished with, “The twins, Daisy and Phoebe, were at a friend’s. I didn’t get to see them before I left.” 

“Shit,” Harry’s voice caught on the single word. He shook his head and turned to look at Louis, unsure what else to say other than, “I’m so sorry.”

Louis grimaced, “It is what it is.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Harry firmly stated. 

“No,” Louis humorlessly laughed, “It doesn’t.” 

Harry sat the photograph back down on the side table and scooted until he was flush against Louis’ side. Louis wrapped his arm around Harry and pulled him closer. An exhale heavily drained his body while he laid his head on Louis’ shoulder. He couldn’t help but to think that if his parents were to find out about them, he would likely be in the same position as Louis. The scariest part was that Harry was unsure if he would even mind leaving his parents behind and traveling somewhere new. 

“Have you heard from any of them since?” 

Louis nodded, his voice lowly reverberating in the small bedroom, “Kept in contact with Charlotte.” He gestured towards to stack of letters with his free hand, “We write just about every week.” 

Harry felt a spark of hope ignite inside his chest.

“M’ glad you still have someone in your family you can talk to,” Harry told him, looking up towards Louis’ profile. 

“Me too,” Louis sighed as he gently rubbed his hand over Harry’s bicep. “Y’know,” He started back up after a moment, “She moved to New York not long ago for school.” 

Harry pulled back so he could properly look at Louis. 

“When you said Gemma was in New York, too, I kinda got to thinkin’…” Louis dropped off and fidgeted with his cufflink. 

With his heartbeat incessantly throbbing, Harry fractionally nodded and urged Louis to continue by widening his eyes. 

“Well, I’ve been dying to see Charlotte,” Louis huffed, his shoulders drooping. “So,” He purposefully waited as a grin slipped its way across his mouth, “What if we went together? In the future, I mean. We gotta plan and I still don’t wanna move too fast, but –” 

Harry surged forward and effectively cut Louis off by pressing their lips together. Louis let out a squeak of surprise into his mouth, but Harry was relentless as he continued to pepper Louis’ lips with overwhelmed kisses. Pleased hums were dripping from his vocals on their own accord and he didn’t bother to stop them. Blood rushed to Harry’s ears as Louis finally found his bearings and pulled him into his lap.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Harry mumbled against Louis’ mouth. He nipped Louis’ bottom lip and leaned back, “I wanna do that.” 

“Yeah?” Louis beamed at him, his hands slipping to Harry’s waist. 

Harry was smiling so widely that the apples of his cheeks started to hurt. He nodded and smacked a kiss to Louis’ cheek, “Yeah. I really wanna go with you.”

Louis incredulously panted a laugh and shook his head. He kissed the base of Harry’s throat then pulled back to meet Harry’s eyes, “How’d I get so lucky, hmm?” 

Bashfulness flushed his skin when he murmured, “Could say the same.”

“Fuck,” Louis chuckled and pulled Harry back in for a kiss. 

Their lips wetly pressed together, soft skin slotting together as if it was what they were made to do for the entirety of their lives. Harry opened his mouth and tilted his head to lick along the bud of Louis’ lower lip. Louis groaned into the sensation and parted his lips. Harry’s breathing went ragged as he fisted the silky tendrils of hair at the nape of Louis’ neck. Every glide of their tongues brought a new wave of emotion into Harry’s veins. 

Harry could feel himself getting worked up as he crowded impossibly closer to Louis’ chest. Louis snaked his fingers underneath the back of Harry’s suit jacket and Harry didn’t think twice before leaning back to strip it off. 

“Harry,” Louis marveled at his eagerness, the blue of his eyes nearly washed out to a grey. 

“Can –” Harry weakly cut off as he mindlessly canted his hips forwards. 

Both men let out sharp moans, Harry’s two octaves lower than Louis’. It was the loveliest harmony Harry had ever heard and he wanted to chase their melody until it unfurled into labored breaths. 

Louis firmly gripped Harry’s waist and rolled them fully onto the mattress, punching the air straight from Harry’s diaphragm. The moment he settled on his back, Harry wildly clung to Louis’ shoulders as if the other man would disappear if he let go. Louis settled between his parted his legs and cased Harry’s frame with his lithe body. With Louis’ forearms bracketing Harry’s face, their hips hovered just an inch from each other. 

As Louis started to nose along Harry’s jaw, he lolled his head to the side and slid his hands down Louis’ spine. Harry felt as if each of his synapses were a moment from collapsing with how quickly they were firing off. He had never been so physically close to another person, having spent most of his teenage years avoiding any form of sexual contact. Louis was the first person who could work their mouth over his skin and leave Harry craving a headier taste. It was an otherworldly sense of feeling free and yet finally belonging in his own skin. 

Louis licked over Harry’s Adam’s apple, the slow drag of his tongue eliciting a whimper from the back of Harry’s throat. He curled a leg over Louis’ calf and lightly pressed his heel into the muscle. 

“Baby,” Louis wetly exhaled into Harry’s skin. 

Harry crudely moaned and bucked his hips to chase the friction Louis’ body offered. 

“Fuck,” Louis groaned as their groins pressed together. He roughly bit into the milky skin of Harry’s neck, “This okay, yeah? We can –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry jerkily nodded and pulled Louis flush against his body. He wrapped his legs around Louis’ waist and whined, “Wanna feel you on me.”

Louis’ voice sounded as if it was coated with a thick layer of honey as he openly moaned. The decadent timbre shot straight to Harry’s pelvis. His cock was heavy against his hip and he could feel Louis’ own length pressed into the base of his abdomen. It was almost jarring just how badly Harry wanted to feel the silky skin along Louis’ cock. He wanted to wrap a fist around the crown of Louis’ length and dip his thumb into the beaded slick. That desire alone was meant to be terrifying and yet, Harry was irrevocably positive that flush against Louis’ frame was exactly where his body was supposed to be. 

Their mouths messily found each other as Louis slowly began to roll his hips downwards. Harry’s thighs tightened around Louis in time with his tongue lathing over Louis’. A coil of heat wound itself in the pit of his gut, spiraling tighter and tighter. He angled his hips to the right and mewled into Louis’ mouth as their cocks rubbed together. 

“Like this?” Louis panted, his hips moving with purpose against Harry. 

“ _Fuck_ , yes,” Harry clenched his eyes shut and bunched a fistful of fabric along the shoulder of Louis’ suit jacket. He rocked his body into Louis’, “Gonna make me come.”

“Oh my god,” Louis obscenely moaned. 

Louis attached his mouth to Harry’s pulse point and pursed his lips as he suckled on the supple skin. Harry hissed as he felt a Louis nip a mark into his throat. He could feel every curve of Louis’ muscles against his own as their movements became frantic. 

“M’ so fuckin’ close,” Harry gasped as he felt the coil of lust about to snap. He tucked his face into Louis’ neck, “You’re gonna be the first like this.” His words were slurring out without any abandon as Louis thrusted down, “First to make me come.”

“Baby,” Louis grunted around possessive moan, “I’m gonna be the _only_ one to have you like this.”

Harry’s head pushed back into the mattress as warmth pushed itself from his center. His cock jerked inside his pants as he toppled over the edge, come licking over his hipbone. Louis’ ground into him with a slur of praise, his movements stuttering as he found his own release. Harry whinnied as he felt Louis’ cock pulse against his own body. He exhaustedly petted over Louis’ back and weakly moaned as Louis licked over his neck. His body was filthy, but he couldn’t bring himself to slip out from underneath the other man. 

“Perfect boy,” Louis heavily exhaled, leaning back as he pushed Harry’s damp hair from his forehead. He minutely shook his head as if he was in disbelief, “My perfect, perfect, boy.”

Harry preened underneath the attention, having felt like he was finally fed after a week of starvation. He cupped Louis’ jaw and blearily grinned, his head lazily nodding. 

_“Yours.”_

Once they had separately cleaned themselves in the bathroom, both men toppled back into bed together. Louis had stripped the sheets and replaced them with fresh linens as Harry changed into pajama bottoms. Their legs tangled together under the thin sheet, hands instantly finding each other as their bodies aligned. Harry traced the pad of his fingers over Louis’ face, committing every detail to memory. 

“You never told me what happened at the club.” 

Harry’s nonsensical pattern faltered as it traced over a small scar above Louis’ eyebrow. He lowered his hand and bit into his bottom lip as he thought back to what Niall had said. Patient as ever, Louis pressed tender kisses along Harry’s palm and fingers while he waited. 

“Niall asked why I’ve been acting weird,” Harry eventually mumbled. Louis hummed, but didn’t say anything else. He took that as encouragement to carry on, “I – I might tell him. About us, I mean.” 

Louis cocked and eyebrow. 

“I mean, obviously, if you were alright with that,” Harry rushed out and scooted impossibly closer.

Louis kissed the tip of Harry’s pinky and earnestly said, “I wanna do whatever is gonna make you happy and keep you safe.”

Harry slightly frowned, “Niall wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not sayin’ he would,” Louis easily said. He carefully reasoned, “If he’s important to you, someone who you wanna keep in your life and who you trust, then I think you should tell him. If he’s not…” Louis drawled off and tiled his head from side to side as best as he could lying down. 

“Right,” Harry slowly nodded, “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now, Stud.” 

Harry felt reassured by Louis’ words and remembered what Louis had said earlier.

“So…New York?”

Louis let out a brash laugh, reverberating far too loud inside the noiseless house. Harry found himself cataloguing every lilt of the gorgeous sound. Louis rolled onto his back and shook his head as his eyes stared up at the ceiling, “You’re somethin’ else, did ya know that?”

In that moment, burrowed by Louis’ side, Harry allowed himself to steal a private moment to look over Louis’ profile. When Harry didn’t readily respond, Louis lolled his head to the side and met his gaze. Louis was a mixture of sharp angles and soft curves as he grinned back at him. Harry watched the way Louis’ natural mischievousness melted into something softer as quietness settled between them. A weight settled inside of Harry’s gut, anchoring him to the moment in time as the enormity of Louis’ existence washed over him. Harry never believed that he would ever feel ardently towards another person. Legs tangled between Louis’, heart readily bared for the other man to see, he couldn’t imagine feeling anything but adoration. 

Louis was the delicate brush of first light and the final kiss of the constellations in the sky. He was the continuously orbiting supernova that burned brighter than any other star, darting into Harry’s atmosphere and crashing into his heart as it barreled to the earth. He was the culmination of racing heartbeats that refused to cease inside of Harry’s chest. Above anything else, Louis was the makeup of everything ethereal to ever be laced within the time continuum. 

This was it, Harry silently reckoned. 

This was the falling bit.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final three. Oh, boy. Good luck. 
> 
> \- Lis xx

The month of October was welcomed by crisp autumn leaves and an improbable romance that rivaled the intensity of a hurricane. Whispered kisses were exchanged underneath the sanctuary of willow trees. A forgotten lake became a home for two young men, harboring their secrets and hushed adorations. Hands fumbled underneath the security of wool blankets, no longer unsure, but deliberate with each caress. October was the month that Harry fell in love. 

****

“What about Thanksgiving?”

It was a Sunday afternoon and Harry was at a golf match with Niall. 

That’s what Harry had told his parents, anyways. 

Truly, he was sprawled on Louis’ couch with his head nestled in the other man’s lap. Using Niall as a scapegoat had become an unfortunate, yet helpful, tactic for Harry. He didn’t raise suspicion because he used to spend all of his spare time with Niall so his parents never batted an eye. Since their falling out, Harry knew that Niall wouldn’t come by the plantation to contradict any of the lies. 

“What about it?” Harry lazily said as Louis continued to card his fingers through his hair. 

Louis lightly tugged on the tresses, “To visit New York.” 

Harry opened his eyes and blinked up at Louis, “You’d wanna go during a holiday?” 

“We would get to see the parade,” Louis shrugged, but his voice let on that there was something else. 

Harry narrowed his eyes, “That’s all?”

“Well,” Louis huffed, already becoming defensive, “We would know your sister and husband would be home. Could spend it with them. Or somethin’.”

“Louis Tomlinson,” A smug grin worked its way onto Harry’s face, “Is this your way of saying you want to spend a family holiday with me?”

The blush on Louis’ face contracted his snipped answer of, “I didn’t say that.”

Harry pushed himself upright, toothily grinning as he drawled out, “You think of me as family, hmm?”

Louis groaned and covered his face with his hands, “Stop overthinkin’ so much.”

“You do!” Harry crowed. He started to messily smatter Louis’ cheeks with kisses, “C’mon, just admit it.”

“You’re a child,” Louis deadpanned. When Harry only jutted out his bottom lip, Louis rolled his eyes, “You’re my family.” He cocked an eyebrow, “Happy?”

 _I love you._

He contently nodded, “Yes.”

Harry resumed his previous position and looked up at Louis who was watching him with a softness that he only had when they were alone. He brought Louis’ hand to his mouth and pursed his lips, eyelashes fluttering shut as he kissed the supple skin. Louis brought his other hand back to Harry’s scalp and lightly scratched. 

“You’re my family, too.” 

Louis breathlessly laughed, ministrations faltering for just a moment. Harry opened his eyes and felt the weight of the words inside his chest. There was a different admission he wanted to tell Louis, but he was too anxious to say it. Until then, this would be enough. 

Harry cleared his throat, “I’ll phone Gemma and check with her before asking my parents.” 

Louis hummed and then carefully asked, “What’re you gonna tell them?”

“No idea,” Harry honestly said. 

****

“You wanna go to New York City…During Thanksgiving…With Louis Tomlinson?”

His father’s disbelief was palpable inside of the dining room. 

“To see Gemma,” Harry quickly added. His hands were restless as they toyed with a napkin underneath the table. Harry looked between his mother and father, “I haven’t seen her since the move and I thought it would be nice –”

“Who’s Lewis?” Anne cut him off, her hand listlessly waving in the air. “I can’t place him.” 

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry quickly corrected, “Is one of the Tomlinson’s from Savannah, remember? Family owns a mill out there.” When his mother still looked confused, Harry sighed, “Mama, I went to Atlanta with him.”

“Oh! I remember now,” Anne nodded, forking another sprout into her mouth.

Robin’s mustache twitched above his mouth, “And he wants to go with you to New York instead of goin’ to Savannah?” He clasped his hands together, “Why?”

Harry fought of the itch that crawled underneath his skin that his father was catching on to state of their relationship. He cleared his throat and tried to indifferently say, “His sister, Charlotte, lives in New York.”

“Makes sense to me,” Anne easily said, reaching to grab her water glass. 

Robin thoughtfully hummed as he speared a piece of steak. He took a bite and Harry stiffly waited for his father to make a decision. His palms were going clammy and he had to resist wiping sweat off the nape of his neck. 

“Bring him ‘round to dinner this week,” Robin eventually said. He pushed his chair back and stood upright, “If you’re goin’ all the way up north, I want to know who you’re gonna be with.” 

Harry quickly nodded, “Yeah, um, no problem.”

Inside, panic was blossoming along the pit of his stomach at the fact that his parents were going to unknowingly meet the man he was in love with. He excused himself from the table and feebly lied about driving to the local bookstore. Harry wasn’t even sure if the shop was open at seven o’clock. Anne didn’t question his haste, just reminded him that he had a date scheduled with Faye the following afternoon at the local cinema. Harry nodded and bolted. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry drove into town, breaking a few traffic laws along the way, and turned into Dempsey’s lot. 

The door to his tuck loudly slammed in the frame as he raced towards the opened right garage. When he was inside, he quickly looked around to see Louis’ feet extended out from underneath the body of a Blackhawk. Zayn crouched by his side, fingers twirling some kind of metal tool that Harry still didn’t know the name of. Thankfully for Harry, it seemed that they were the only two mechanics on duty. 

Zayn looked up and when his eyes met Harry’s, worry instantly clouded his expression. “Harry?” He stood upright, “You okay, pal? Ya look –”

“What? Harry?” Louis voice surprisingly spat out from under the car, quickly followed by a muffled groan as his upper-body jerked upwards. “Fuckin’ shit!” Louis grunted and rolled himself out on a dolly. 

There was grease smudged over his face and hands, coveralls in even worse shape. Louis placed a hand over his head and winced at the pressure. His jaw tensed, but then he seemed to remember Harry and quickly turned to look at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Harry guiltily winced, twisting his hands together, “I shoulda –”

Zayn cut him off with a flick of his hand, “Don’t apologize for Lou bein’ an idiot and forgetting he was under a fuckin’ car.”

“Shut it,” Louis gritted at Zayn and climbed off the dolly. He wiped off his hands with a bandana and frowned as he stepped closer to Harry, “What’re you doin’ here?” 

Harry looked over Louis’ shoulder towards Zayn and nervously shifted his weight. 

Apparently following his train of thought, Louis turned towards the other mechanic and gently asked, “Would you mind givin’ us a mo’?” 

“No worries,” Zayn easily said and grabbed a pack of stoked off of a toolbox. He walked towards the mouth of the garage and patted Louis’ back, “Take your time.” 

When Zayn left, Louis moved to reach out for Harry, but stopped because of the grease. He awkwardly lowered his hands and shoved them in his pockets. 

“So, what’s –”

“My parents want you to come over for dinner,” Harry blurted out, his cheeks turning rosy.

Louis’ eyebrows shot upwards and his jaw slackened. 

“M’ sorry,” Louis laughed, his brows pinching together, “ _What_?”

Harry groaned scrubbed a hand through his hair, “I asked them about New York and they said I could go if they met you first.” 

“Okay, well,” Louis scratched the back of his neck. He looked up at Harry and shrugged, “I can do that. It’s fine.” 

“No it’s not,” Harry petulantly grumbled. He embarrassingly crossed his arms, “I’m really sorry.” 

Louis frowned, “Why would you be sorry?”

“Because it’s gonna be _horrible_ ,” Harry whined. 

“I think I can manage acting like a gentleman for a few hours, Stud,” Louis bristled with a sour expression. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Harry quickly reassured. He crossed one foot over the other, “My _parents_ are gonna be horrible, not you.” The more he thought about it, the worst he started to feel, “They’re gonna be snobs. Probably will say homophobic shit and not know that –”

“Baby, take a breath,” Louis softly said. He stepped closer so their shoes brushed, “It’s going to okay, yeah?” Louis reassuringly smiled, “I just gotta lie about the whole lumber mill bit, but…It’ll be okay. I can handle it.”

Harry looked down at his feet and mumbled another, “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Louis firmly said, but his tone was still kind. “Besides,” He teased, “Now I have an excuse to wear that suit again.”

That made Harry groan for a whole different reason.

“What?! I thought you liked the suit!”

“I do,” Harry moped, barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot. “You’re gonna look gorgeous and I won’t be able to do anything about it.”

Louis brashly laughed, his head lolling back. He shook his head, “When did you become such a minx, hmm?”

Harry bashfully grinned, “Your fault.”

“M’ corrupting you,” Louis stated as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“Definitely,” Harry chirped. He waited a moment before carefully asking, “Sure you don’t mind?”

Louis shook his head, “If sittin’ through one lousy dinner means I get to go to New York with my favorite boy,” He tacked on a wink, “I’m up for it.” 

_I love you._

****

The night Louis was due for dinner with the Styles family was the night that Harry thought he was going to have a stroke. 

“Harry, are you almost ready?” Anne called from downstairs, heels clattering over the floorboards. 

“Yeah, Mama!” Harry shouted back. 

After alternating between four different outfits, Harry settled on a three-piece charcoal suit. He was carefully patting down a flyaway hair as a pair of headlights appeared at the end of the drive. Snagging a velvet box from the top of his bed, Harry sprinted towards the front door. He darted outside and slowed to a jog as Louis pulled into park. 

“Careful,” A smirk quirked Louis’ mouth as he shut the truck door, “Or I might think you’re excited to see me, Stud.”

Louis looked stunning in the black suit, somehow even more beautiful than the first time he wore it to the club. Harry nipped on his bottom lip as he pulled a small velvet box from his front pocket. He held it between his hands and steeled himself a breath before passing it to Louis. 

“I wanted to, um, give you something. Before we went in,” He mumbled as Louis cautiously took the box.

Louis’ brows were knitted in confusion as he slowly flipped open the lid of the box. Harry anxiously fidgeted with the hem of his jacket while he watched Louis’ pupils enlarge. 

“Harry…” Louis quietly said, shaking his head. 

Inside the box was a pair of silver cufflinks, polished to immaculate perfection. They were fashioned into the shape of two small birds. Each design was etched to perfection and specially designed for Harry by the local jewler. Harry had them made three weeks prior, but didn’t know when to give them to Louis until he agreed to dinner. 

“They’re swallows,” Harry murmured, heat coloring his neck. “They’re lovers and just, um, _sweet_ kind of creatures, ya know?” Harry awkwardly cleared his throat, “That’s what I was taught, anyways. And, well…They make me think of you.” 

Louis’ eyes were glassy as Harry spoke. His petal pink lips were parted a touch as he shakily exhaled. 

When Louis didn’t say anything after another moment, Harry flinched, “Sorry, it’s probably stup –”

“Shut up and put them on me,” Louis sniffed, voice watery and raw. 

Harry laughed and Louis chuckled, both vibrating with a deeper layer of emotions that were one breath away from boiling over the edge. Glancing towards the front of the house, Harry was relieved that Martha hadn’t come to the door yet. He positioned his back so that if someone was to look out front, they wouldn’t see the way he was fastening the delicate cufflinks to Louis’ dress shirt. 

“I really wish I could kiss you,” Louis said under his breath as Harry secured the second swallow. 

“I do, too.”

Louis’ fingers brushed over Harry’s wrist before he pulled away, “Thank you.” He looked down at the swallows and disbelievingly shook his head, “Really, Harry, this means so much to me.”

“Well,” Harry self-consciously shrugged, “You mean a lot to me.”

_I love you._

“You’re gonna make me a mess before I even get in there,” Louis teased, lightening the mood. He stepped away from Harry and jutted his thumb towards the plantation, “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. 

They walked up the steps to the porch, pausing for a moment before Harry opened the front door. He gestured for Louis to walk in first and said a small prayer before following behind. As he shut the front door, he heard Martha patter from the dining room. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” She immediately blundered. “I didn’t hear the bell, sir. Apologies.”

“I got it right before he rang, Martha,” Harry assured, not wanting the woman to have a mild panic attack. 

Martha nodded, relief clearing expression, “Excellent. Mr. and Mrs. Styles are in the parlor, if you’d like to follow me.” 

When Martha turned to lead the way, Louis flashed Harry a quick wink before he straightened his spine and followed behind her. Harry clasped his hands hiding his back and mentally prepared for the following few hours. 

“Sir, Ma’am,” Martha cleared her throat and gestured towards Louis, “Mr. Tomlinson has arrived.”

Harry didn’t miss the way Louis’ mouth twitched at the introduction, valiantly fighting off laughter. He nervously watched Robin and Anne as they stood from the loveseat, straightening their clothes before stepping towards Louis. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Styles,” Louis politely extended a hand towards Anne first, “Lovely to meet you.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Anne gushed, taking Louis’ hand and furiously blushing as he pecked the back of it. “Great to meet you, dear,” She giggled like a school girl and Harry was unreasonably jealous. 

“Sir,” Louis added more grit to his voice as he turned towards Robin for a handshake. 

Robin shook his hand, his eyes slightly narrowing, “Have we met before?”

Harry wanted to smack himself in the forehead, having completely forgotten that Louis met both of his parents after “fixing” his truck. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and anxiously looked at Louis. Harry was nearly gobsmacked that Louis didn’t show an ounce of nerves as he lightly laughed and nodded.

“We have,” Louis folded his hands in front of him. “I fixed Harry’s truck when it broke down.”

Robin’s neck snapped towards Harry at a rate he didn’t even know what possible. 

“Thought you said he was in lumber?” 

“My family is,” Louis respectfully cut in, pulling Robin’s attention back to him. “My family owns a mill. I’m very lucky that it allows me to focus on my own passions. Cars being one of them.”

Anne put a hand over her heart, “Well that’s just lovely of your parents to help ya out with your little hobby.”

Louis’ jaw tensed for a fraction of a second before he laughed and nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Y’know,” Robin started, voice much brighter than moments prior, “I used to do some fixin’ up on cars.”

“You did?” Harry frowned at that. 

Robin nodded and conspiringly winked at Louis, “Was great for meetin’ birds who wanted a guy a little rough around the edges.” 

Anne held her hands up and laughed, “Guilty as charged.”

Harry felt sick. 

“M’ sure you know all about that, handsome man like yourself,” Robin haughtily said. 

If Louis was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it as he laughed and nodded. He lifted a shoulder, “You caught me, sir.”

Harry dug his nails into the pads of his palms, barely refraining from shouting that his father couldn’t be more wrong. He knew Louis was playing along to get on their good graces, but Harry couldn’t bother to pretend that he didn’t hate it. When Martha entered the room and announced dinner was prepared, they filed towards the dining room. Louis hung back as Harry’s parents walked ahead, his hand lightly brushing Harry’s forearm. 

“You okay?” Louis whispered. 

Harry nodded, pushing his feelings aside and said, “They like you.”

“Yeah?” Louis grinned and Harry could see some tension roll from his shoulders, “Okay, good.”

They walked into the dining room and Harry was seated by Louis’ side, his mother and father across from them. Plates were full of southern-styled food, but he felt too unnerved to eat any of it. Harry reached for his wine goblet, tipping back a generous amount of red into his mouth. He let it soak into his taste buds before swallowing. 

“So, Louis,” Anne sighed, “Harry tells us that you’re headed to New York?”

Louis wiped his mouth with a napkin and nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” He looked between Anne and Robin, “I have a younger sister who is studying in the city.” 

“Well done,” Robin nodded in approval. “What’s she studying?”

“Nursing, sir.”

“Smart girl,” Anne noted before sipping her wine. Harry took another swig from his goblet and nearly spat it out when his mother carried on to ask, “Are you married?”

All eyes flitted towards Harry as he roughly coughed and swallowed the mouthful of wine. Louis patted the center of his back, but quickly removed his hand. 

“Are you alright, dear?” His mother worriedly asked with her lips pursed. 

Harry nodded and scratchily bit out, “Peachy.”

“Um,” Louis stammered, looking between Harry and Anne, “No, I’m not married.”

“A right catch like you?” Anne admonished as if it was the most preposterous news. 

“Now that I think of it,” Robin pointed his fork towards Louis, “The Parsons’ have a daughter that we could set you up with.” He looked at Harry, a disapproving tilt to his mouth, “This one was all fussy about her, but I’ve heard she’s a lovely girl.”

Louis slipped his hands underneath the table, “I appreciate the offer, sir, but I’m alright.” 

Robin frowned, “Are you already goin’ steady?”

“Dad,” Harry urged, eyes going wide, “Can we leave interrogations to officers, please?”

“It’s alright,” Louis carefully said to Harry. He angled himself to face Robin, but foot hooked over Harry’s ankle, “I am going steady with someone.”

“Good to hear, son,” Robin appreciatively said, seeming more at ease by the news. 

The rest of the meal was filled with stilted questions of Louis’ upbringing and Harry couldn’t do anything more than continue to drink. He focused on feeling where Louis was touching him, using it as an anchor as his mother lobbied another question about Louis’ “girlfriend” from Savannah. He itched for an excuse to get Louis away from his parents, feeling as if they were tainting him just by being in the same room. It wasn’t until the staff cleared the table that Harry had the opportunity. 

“I wanted to show Louis around the plantation while he’s here, if that’s alright.”

The sound of his voice seemed to remind his parents that he was still present at the table. Anne looked almost shocked to still see him sat by Louis’ side. 

“I’d love to see it,” Louis quipped. He beautifully grinned at Anne, “Your home is lovely, by the way. Sorry for not having said so earlier.”

“Thank you, Louis. No need to apologize,” Anne modestly rolled her fingers in the air. 

Robin stood from his chair, silently bringing everyone else to their feet as well. He extended a hand towards Louis, “You’re welcome anytime, son.”

“Thank you, sir,” Louis beamed, seemingly genuinely pleased by the news. 

Harry didn’t bother wasting anymore time before he practically dragged Louis from the room. Louis went easily, huffing out a laugh at Harry’s eagerness. He guided them to his bedroom and flung the door open before he practically shoved Louis inside. The moment the door shut, he crowded Louis against the wall. 

“Hello to you, too,” Louis breathlessly chuckled, his hands snaking into Harry’s hair. 

Harry didn’t bother to respond, choosing to kiss the other man instead. Louis muffled a surprised noise into his mouth. Parting his lips, Harry roughly nipped at Louis’ bottom lip. His movements instantly became sloppy, feeling urgency course through his veins as his hands roamed over Louis’ front.

“Baby,” Louis exhaled, pulling his mouth back when Harry’s hand lowered towards his groin. He looked over Harry’s face with confusion, “Baby, what’re you doing?”

Unable to voice how he was feeling, Harry ducked down and kissed Louis’ neck. He rocked his hips into Louis’ and nipped at the wet skin.

“Harry,” Louis admonished, pulling Harry back by his hair. He shook his head, “We can’t do this here.” 

“But,” Harry cut himself off, growing flustered and unreasonably upset. He cupped Louis’ face and kissed him before pressing their foreheads together, “I need you.” Harry kissed him again, “I really need you.”

“Okay,” Louis exhaled and nodded. He lightly pushed Harry back, “Let’s go back to –”

“ _No_ ,” Harry desperately interrupted. He cupped his hands behind his neck, “I want you. Properly, want you. Now.”

Louis looked pained, but he still sternly said, “We can’t.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and defensively crossed his arms, “You’ve already had sex with other people, am I like, not good enough or something?”

Louis snapped his mouth shut, eyes filling with worry rather than confusion. 

“What’s going on?”

Harry wiped a hand over his face and turned around, feeling irrational for every feeling that had been burning inside of him the past two hours. He stalked towards his bed and sat on the edge, eyes downcast. Louis hesitated for a moment before he stepped between his legs and crouched down. 

“Harry,” Louis splayed his hands over Harry’s thighs. He lightly rubbed his thumbs in circles, “We gotta talk about this.” 

“Talk about how you pretty much just said you don’t wanna have sex with me?” Harry bitterly scoffed. He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Fuck,” Louis grunted and stood upright. 

For a moment, blind panic rooted itself inside his chest as Louis walked towards the door. Louis flicked the lock of the door and then kicked off his shoes. Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief when Louis climbed onto the bed and patted his thighs. 

“I’m not about to have this kind of conversation with you and not hold you, okay?” Louis exasperatedly sighed and motioned for Harry to come closer.

Harry didn’t falter as he crawled into Louis’ lap and made himself small against the other man’s chest. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle, his lips pressing a firm kiss to the left side of Harry’s temple. He clenched his eyes shut and focused on the rhythmic thudding of Louis’ heartbeat. 

“You really think I don’t want that with you?” Louis quietly asked. 

Harry minutely shrugged.

“Christ,” Louis exhaled and tightened his hold. “M’ fuckin’ crazy about you. Honestly, I’ve wanted you since the first night I met you,” Louis earnestly murmured. He kissed Harry’s temple again, “But, I’m not gonna do anythin’ like that when you’re clearly not okay. I care about you too much.” 

“I care about you, too,” Harry muffled into the junction of Louis’ neck.

Louis’ posture slightly relaxed, “I know, baby.”

A few minutes passed by in silence and Harry knew that Louis was waiting for him to speak first. 

“My parents are never gonna know we’re together,” He dejectedly said, his voice sounding jagged. He pulled back and met Louis’ gaze, “They’re always gonna ask about girls and we’re always gonna lie.” Harry rested his hands on Louis’ chest and shrugged, “And – It’s stupid, but, I just want to be with you in my own home. Even if it was just in my room and only we knew.” 

Louis’ gaze was unbearably passionate as he looked up at Harry. He put his palms on either side of Harry’s face and slowly pulled him in. Harry went boneless as their mouths slotted together, their movements exponentially softer than before. His heart tightened inside of his chest while Louis tenderly kissed him. All of the strain that had wrought his body into a frenzy dissipated when he felt the other man sigh into his mouth. Louis gently sucked on Harry’s bottom lip before releasing it and slowly lathing over the plush skin with his tongue. Their movements died into lingering brushes before they were merely panting into each other’s mouths.

“The first time I make love you,” Louis quietly started, “It’s not going to be hidden in your childhood room.” He kissed Harry’s pouted lips and murmured, “It’s gonna be under the stars and under the moon so the whole universe will know that what we’re doing isn’t something to be ashamed of.” 

_I love you._

****

Harry’s attention dragged from the page of his book when he heard a light clatter from outside. His eyebrows pinched together as he looked towards the window. It was quiet for a moment before he saw knuckles rapt against the pane. Harry jerked back, hand flying to cover his chest as his heart threatened to give out. There was a hiss from outside and another knock. Harry narrowed his eyes and gaped when he made out the shape of a silhouette. Quickly clambering from bed, Harry dashed towards the sill and pushed the window open. There Louis was, perched in a sycamore tree as if he had become one of the swallows. 

“What’re you doin’ here?!” Harry whisper-shouted as his chest hung outside of the bedroom window. 

Louis grunted as he shimmied across a thick branch that extended just two feet from Harry’s window, his knuckles white from their firm grip. Moonlight poured through the foliage of the leaves, painting Louis’ skin with an ethereal glow. His thighs tightly hugged the wood as he scooted a foot closer. A cooing of a barred owl sifted into the night and from somewhere inside the plantation, the crackling of a radio could be heard. 

“C’mon, Stud,” Louis panted, his hair drooping into his eyes. He pushed it back from his forehead and beckoned Harry closer with two fingers, “I wanna show you somethin’.” 

Harry’s eyes widened, “I can’t sneak out!”

“Baby,” Louis cocked an eyebrow, “I’m up in a tree to see ya even though we both know that I fuckin’ hate heights.” He huffed out a laugh, “You bet your ass you’re gonna sneak out for an hour.” 

Looking over his shoulder to see his bedroom door firmly shut, Harry sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. He turned back towards Louis and shook his head, “I can’t.” 

“And why not?”

Harry narrowed his eyes with an unimpressed tilt of his mouth, “D’you really expect me to jump out my window?”

“What?” Louis’ nose scrunched. He shook his head, “Don’t be daft, I’m not tryin’ to kill ya.” Louis flailed his hand out, “Sneak out the back door.”

“My parents are still awake.”

“They’re in the study,” Louis waved Harry off. “They won’t even hear ya.”

“How the heck do you know that?!”

“Because I just climbed this goddamn tree right in front of the study’s window without them even lookin’ up from their game of dice!”

A sharp laugh fell from Harry’s lips and he instantly smacked a hand over his mouth. Louis’ shocked expression matched his own, both falling eerily quiet. Harry strained to hear any movement from the first floor, but there was nothing than that muffled serenading of Bessie Smith. When there wasn’t any sign of his parents having heard Harry, both men released a collective exhale. 

“Where would we go?” Harry cautiously asked. 

Louis’ head lolled back and he groaned. His shoulders drooped, “Can you just come out here and I’ll be able to show ya?” Louis rolled his neck upright and lowered his voice, “Please?”

Harry pinched his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger, taking one more look over his shoulder. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. Looking back towards the sycamore, Harry knew that he was helpless under the amount of hopefulness that laced Louis’ expression. 

“Okay,” Harry jerkily nodded. 

A brilliant smile spread over Louis’ face, brighter than the moon and ever constellation in existence. 

“Yeah?” Louis excitedly whispered, his fingers thrumming along the branch. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathlessly laughed. He pointed his index finger at the other man, “Now get down from that tree before you hurt yourself. I’d like to keep you in one piece.”

Louis rolled his eyes, “Whateva you say, Stud.” 

Harry hovered by the window for a moment, anxiously watching as Louis carefully climbed down the truck of the tree. When Louis’ feet were planted on the ground and he looked up at Harry with a thumb’s up, he closed the window. He stepped towards the wardrobe and pulled out a maroon sweater and tan trousers, making quick work of dressing himself. 

Gently, Harry slowly opened his bedroom door. The hinges slightly creaked underneath the movement. Harry held his breath and tip-toed towards the staircase. His heart hammered inside of his chest as he crept towards the bottom step, eyes locked on the sliver of light that poured from underneath the study’s door. Just as he was about to descend onto the second to last step, there was a high-pitched mewl. Harry nearly fell backwards as the sound, eyes frantically darting across the floor. Tully sat in the center of the floor, head tilted as she watched him with brilliant eyes. The cat stood and pawed closer towards Harry as an even louder meow pushed from her small body. 

“Tully, go!” Harry hissed and waved his hand to shoo her away. 

The tabby walked closer to the staircase and continued to let out needy sounds. Panic was growing inside of Harry’s chest. 

_“S’ that the damn cat?”_

Color drained from Harry’s face at the low reverberation of his father’s voice. His fingers bit into the wood railing from how tightly he was holding on. 

“I think so, dear,” Anne’s voice dully exhaled. 

“Can ya shut her up? M’ trying to concentrate here.” 

Even midst a miniature heart attack, Harry wanted to scoff at his father. He was only playing a game of dice. It was hardly a game that needed intense concentration. Harry nearly swallowed his tongue at the sound of footsteps. The door to the study swung open, his mother standing in the doorway. 

“Tully,” Anne tutted and snapped her fingers. “C’mere, girl.”

Harry wasn’t positive if he was even breathing as he froze in place. His mouth was obscenely wide as he kept in the shadows, eyes flashing between Tully and his mother. 

“C’mon,” Anne cooed.

By some miracle, Tully gave Harry one last assessing look before trotting towards the study. Harry didn’t dare to relax until the door of the study closed once more. Waiting just a moment more, he heard the rattling of dice. Harry darted towards the back of the house, adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream. Unlocking the back door, he drew it open and carefully shut it behind him. Louis was already looming in the back garden, pacing with his arms crossed. When he saw Harry, he visibly relaxed.

He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, “What took ya so long?!” 

“Cat nearly gave me away.”

Louis disbelievingly raised an eyebrow. 

“She – Never mind,” Harry shook his head and noncommittedly waved his hand in the air. He stepped closer towards Louis, “So, what did you wanna show me?” 

Louis closed the distance between them, hand curling around Harry’s jaw as he brought their lips together. Tension left Harry’s body as their mouths slotted. He rested his hands on Louis’ waist and hummed into the kiss. Louis leaned away, darting forward to peck Harry once more before he rocked back on his heels. 

“Hello,” He murmured, fingers tracing over Harry’s jawline. 

A private grin tugged at Harry’s lips, “Hello.”

“Needed to see you,” Louis whispered and slowly lowered his hand to the base of Harry’s neck. 

Harry bowed his head and heavily exhaled.

Earlier that evening, Harry had taken Faye to Blossoms on a date that was orchestrated by his parents. After dinner, she wanted to take a walk around Lake Lanier and Harry couldn’t refuse her. Over the course of three and a half months, he learned that gritting his teeth and agreeing to do what Faye wanted was the best way to keep her placated. Whenever they disagreed, even in the slightest, she would bring up their future together and ask him if that was what it would be like when they were married. Harry couldn’t bear to talk about a future with her when he spent the rest of his time in the tender arms of another. He stopped disagreeing altogether. 

During their walk around the lake, Faye had kept a constricting grasp on Harry’ hand. That wouldn’t have mattered much if they didn’t end up running into Louis and Zayn. The two men were fishing off the lip of the bank, raucous laughter layering the fall breeze. Harry had stumbled backwards at the sight of Louis, unintentionally yanking Faye with him. At the sound of her brash yelp, Louis and Zayn turned towards the pair. 

“Oh,” Louis exhaled, his shoulders instantly drooping. 

“Louis!” Faye chirped, oblivious to the way Louis’ gaze was locked on the place where she held Harry. She dragged Harry closer to the two men with an excited laugh, “Funny runnin’ into you again!”

“Yeah,” Louis forcibly laughed, “Funny.”

“We,” Faye enunciated with a hand slapping over Harry’s chest, “Just got back from dinner. At Blossoms.” 

Zayn nervously looked between Louis and Harry as they remained silent. He cleared his throat and adjusted his grip on a fishing rod, “Nice.” 

“It was, wasn’t it, sugar?” Faye drawled as she looked up at Harry. When Harry didn’t instantly respond, she plowed on, “Aw, he still gets nervous around me. Ain’t that the sweetest?” 

Louis’ jaw tensed as he bit out, “Yeah, real sweet.”

Faye conspiringly leaned in closer towards Louis and fake-whispered, “Would be more worried ‘bout it if he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” 

“What?!” Harry barked, feeling bile rise in his throat. He shook his head and searched over Louis’ bluntly shattered expression, “I – _No_. We haven’t –”

“Jesus, darlin’,” Faye exasperatedly huffed and folded her arms. “I was just teasing,” She flicked her hair from her shoulder. “No one thinks yer any less of a gentleman, so, relax.”

“We should get goin’,” Zayn said as he clasped a hand over Louis’ shoulder.

Harry’s bottom lip was worried between his teeth and he hoped that Louis could hear him internally shouting a mantra of, _I didn’t do anything. She’s lying. She means nothing. I haven’t done anything._ Louis faintly nodded and schooled his impression into something painfully blank.

Once the four of them parted ways with stilted goodbyes, Harry’s stomach was knotted in distress and guilt. While his relationship with Louis had only grown stronger over the previous month, there wasn’t any use in denying that Faye’s perpetual presence didn’t loom over them like an incurable sickness. Louis had been patient with him, repeatedly reassuring that as long as they had each other, he could handle Faye. Kissing his knuckles, Louis promised that as long as he had Harry’s affection, he would stay. It was moments like that when Harry nearly let the three heaviest words roll off of his tongue. 

_Nearly._

“M’ so sorry,” Harry mumbled, his voice heavy with emotion. He pulled Louis flush against his chest and tucked his head into the crook of Louis’ neck. Harry kissed the soft skin there and exhaled, “I never –”

“I know,” Louis quietly cut him off. 

Harry clenched his eyes shut and ran his hands over Louis’ back. 

“C’mon,” Louis murmured before pulling back from their embrace. He tilted his head towards the side, “Let’s get outta here.”

The walked around the side of the plantation, keeping out of sight from the gaze of the front windows. Louis picked up his bike from the base of the sycamore and patted the handlebars. Butterflies batted their wings inside Harry’s stomach as he carefully adjusted himself on the front of the bicycle. Louis pressed a plush kiss to the base of his neck and then started pedaling. Wind whipped around their frames as they made their way towards the south end of town. Comfortable silence spread between them as Harry titled his head back and watched the stars. 

After about fifteen minutes, Louis veered onto a smaller road. The skin between Harry’s brows puckered as they stopped outside of a greenhouse. He carefully clambered off of the bicycle and took a step closer. The immaculate glass house was coddled by a manicured garden. It wasn’t run-down, quite the opposite if the neat coble path was anything to go by. Through the panels of windows, Harry could see rows of blooms that varied in sizes and colors. 

“Lou,” Harry slowly said, “What’re we doing here?”

Louis held up a set of keys and jingled them, “We’re gonna have a picnic.” 

A startled laugh pushed its way from Harry’s chest as he looked between the green house and Louis. “It’s, like, eleven at night.” 

An amused smirk played over Louis’ expression, “I can’t exactly take you on a picnic in broad daylight, now can I?”

Heat pooled inside the apples of his cheeks, “No, you can’t.” 

“So,” Louis took a backwards step towards the door of the greenhouse, “A moonlit picnic will have to do.”

“Hold on a mo’,” Harry started with a worried frown tipped the corners of his lips. “Where’d you get the keys from?”

Louis clasped his hands behind his back and nonchalantly shrugged, “Might have fixed Mr. Gibson’s muffler in exchange for ‘em.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, “Are – Are you serious?”

A blush creeped along Louis’ neck as he gently said, “I wanted to do somethin’ special for you.”

Taking two strides forwards, Harry knotted his fingers into Louis’ hair and kissed him. He pushed every emotion into the kiss, eliciting a low moan from Louis’ throat. Harry slowly walked them towards the greenhouse and crowded the other man against the siding. Louis’ fisted the fabric of Harry’s sweater and flicked his tongue against the seam of Harry’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” Harry exhaled into Louis’ mouth. “Did you know,” He nudged their noses together, “You’re everything to me?” Harry thumbed over the height of Louis’ cheekbone, “Absolutely _everything_.”

Louis nervously laughed, “Thought you said you already had everything?”

Harry recognized his arrogant words from back in July. He confidently shook his head, “I was wrong.” 

Louis sucked in a breath and brushed their lips together as he murmured, “You’re everything to me, too.”

_I love you._

Louis leaned back and petted over Harry’s chest, “Wanna go in?”

Harry swallowed the sentiment and nodded. Louis turned around and unlocked the door, his fingers slightly trembling. Harry crowded behind him, arching his neck to gently kiss over Louis’ pulse point. Once the door clicked open, Louis reached behind and looped their pinkies together. Harry kept close as they filtered inside, never straying more than a foot from Louis. 

The inside of the greenhouse was humid, but not uncomfortably so. A heady floral smell curled around them in an incomparable sweetness. The brilliant radiance of the moon blanketed the plants, fully illuminating the space in a hazy glow. Stretched in the center of the floor was a layer of blankets and pillows that Harry knew were from Louis’ house. Along the edge of the plush nest was a wicker basket. 

“You weren’t kiddin’,” Harry weakly laughed. 

Louis settled in the center of the blanket and scoffed, “Course not.”

Harry sat across from him and looped his fingers around Louis’ ankle as the other man emptied the contents of the basket. There was a bottle of champagne, two neatly cut beef sandwiches and a side of macaroni salad. Louis hummed under his breath as he put the contents onto paper plates. Harry popped open the champagne and carefully filled two Dixie cups. Both men grabbed a cup and held them together with matching private grins. 

“To Harry Styles,” Louis flashed him a wink, making Harry chuckle under his breath. Louis’ expression morphed into something more intense, “Someone who’s not just my best friend,” He paused, eyes softening touch, “But, my deepest love.” 

Louis’ words were delicate as they hung in the air and Harry felt as if time had faltered, leaving them to eternally remain in the moment. There was a cherry blush that painted Louis’ cheeks and a slight tremor in his hand. His eyes, though, the beryl blue irises that Harry had grown to cherish more than anything in the world, were unwavering. Swallowing a choked breath, Harry wet his bottom lip with his tongue. 

“To Louis Tomlinson,” Harry wetly started. He cleared his throat, “Someone who’s not just the sweetest creature,” Harry shook his head as his voice became thick, “But, the absolute love of my life.” 

Louis’ teeth dipped into his bottom lip as he fought off the face-splitting grin that threatened to spread. He looked down at his lap and scratched the back of his neck, almost disbelievingly. When his attention darted back upwards, the skin along his eyes were crinkled and Harry reckoned that he had never seen someone appear more incandescently idyllic. 

“I love you,” Louis told him, voice no louder than a whisper. 

Harry felt weightless as the sentiment draped him in warmth. He roughly sniffed and barely managed, “I love you, Lou.”

Both men sipped the champagne, bright eyes locking over the lips of the cups. Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the cup down. He slowly crawled forwards into Louis’ lap, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck. Louis set his drink to the side and settled his hands along Harry’s waist. Pressing their foreheads together, Harry breathed him in. 

He couldn’t be sure who brought their mouths together, all Harry knew was that Louis was in love with him and he was in love with Louis. Their lips parted in time, tongues wetly sliding together. Harry tightened his thighs around Louis’ waist and suckled on the tip of Louis’ tongue. A heady moan reverberated from Louis’ throat and Harry eagerly swallowed it. 

With one palm firm pressed along the base of Harry’s spine, Louis carefully leaned forwards. Pillows cushioned his descent and Louis’ lithe frame was quick to follow. Harry parted his legs, his thighs fully falling open. Nimble fingers traced the hem of his sweater, teasing the material before they slipped under. Harry sighed as Louis stroked over the soft skin along his hips. Each caress was reverent and adorned with an amount of love that Harry didn’t know existed. 

“This okay?” Louis whispered against Harry’s lips. 

Harry blinked his eyes open and looked towards the glass ceiling of their floral sanctuary. The pearly moon perched herself in the center of the onyx sky, all of her stars shimmering down upon the earth. Every residual worry that he had was finally ready to be released into the Georgian night. Harry wanted the universe to know the amount of love he felt for Louis. 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded and cupped Louis’ neck. He kissed Louis’ cheek and murmured into the shell of his ear, “Want you to make love to me.” Harry nipped at the soft skin of his earlobe, “Want it under the moon and stars, just like you promised.”

Louis shuddered at Harry’s words, visibly as affected as Harry felt. He bracketed Harry’s face with his forearms and slowly rolled his hips downwards. The friction of Louis’ weight bearing down on his front had Harry’s jaw slackening. A delicious heat began to curl inside of his groin, his length growing heavy against the crease of his hip.

Harry’s fingers snaked between them, quickly loosening the fastened buttons. Louis wetly smacked their lips together, tongues assuredly coiling together in slick movements. The top of Louis’ tongue curled to flick the center of Harry’s tongue, sending electricity to wildly spark inside of his veins. He slid Louis’ shirt from his arms and flattened his palms over Louis’ warm chest. 

Leaning back onto his haunches, Louis reached for the bottom of Harry’s sweater. Harry bent forward and yanked the fabric over his head before falling onto his back. His arms splayed by his side and he watched with heavy eyes as Louis reached for his ankles. Louis’ chest heaved as he tugged Harry’s shoes and socks from his feet, tossing them off to the side. Louis’ hand faltered just before he unfastened the button of Harry’s slacks. He looked up to meet Harry’s eyes and cocked his eyebrow.

“M sure,” Harry whispered. 

Louis popped the button of Harry’s pants and slowly pulled them down, leaving Harry in a pair of cream boxers. His cock tented the thin material and a flush dotted along his chest as Louis stared at the outline of his length. Scooting back a few inches, Louis bowed his back over and nosed over Harry’s cock. Precome beaded along his crown and his shoulders dug into the layers of blankets at the sensation. Hooking his fingers over the band of Harry’s boxers, Louis pulled them down at a torturously slow pace. Louis’ eyes darkened as he marveled over Harry’s naked body, his tongue subconsciously wetting his lips. 

“Lou,” Harry whimpered, feeling restless under Louis’ gaze. 

“So beautiful, baby,” Louis exhaled, his breath heavily panting along Harry’s cock. He wrapped a hand around the base of Harry’s length and slowly pulled upwards, pushing more precome from the head, “Fuckin’ wet, too.”

Harry squirmed underneath Louis’ ministrations and trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes rolled back when Louis lowered his mouth and pressed the tip of his tongue into Harry’s slit. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, already bringing him embarrassingly close to his orgasm. He fisted the blankets underneath him as Louis flattened his tongue and licked around the crown. He felt as if he was being set aflame from the inside ad Louis coaxed another pearl of precome from him. Harry’s mouth was unabashedly gaping once Louis tightly wrapped his lips around his cock. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry whined, his eyes clenching shut. 

Louis lowly hummed as he bobbed his head lower, taking more of Harry’s length into his slick heat. Obscene sounds slipped from Harry’s mouth on their own accord and he had to pull Louis back before he came too soon. 

“M’ gonna come if you don’t stop,” Harry told him on a labored breath. 

“Wanna come with me inside of you, baby?” Louis tilted his head to the side, his lips already puffy from being wrapped around Harry’s cock. 

“Oh my god,” Harry garbled out, covering his face with his hands. He jerkily nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I want that.”

Louis pressed a suckling kiss to the tip of Harry’s crown before pulling back and leaning towards the wicker basket. He winked at Harry once he held a tube of KY that Harry had only seen in naughty magazines. 

Harry panted out a laugh, “Someone was confident.” 

“Someone was prepared,” Louis amended with a light slap to Harry’s thigh before settling between his legs. 

When Louis flicked open the cap, Harry nervously shifted his hips. He rested on his forearms and cleared his throat so the other man would look at him. 

“Is it gonna hurt?” Harry quietly asked, his cheeks burning crimson. 

Louis’ expression was soft as he petted the inside of Harry’s thigh. He tilted his head from side to side, “It’s uncomfortable at first, but then it gets good.” Louis kissed Harry’s hipbone and whispered into the supple skin, “M’ gonna go slow with you, okay? And we can stop at any time.” 

“Okay,” Harry shakily exhaled.

“Would you rather be on your front or your back, baby?”

“Back,” Harry immediately said, eliciting a small chuckle from Louis. “Um,” He looked down before meeting Louis’ eyes, “I wanna see you.”

“Fuck,” Louis moaned and firmly kissed Harry’s mouth. “I love you so much.”

Harry whimpered and pulled Louis closer to kiss him again. He pinched Louis’ lip between his teeth and let go before kissing the swollen skin. 

“I love you,” Harry ardently told him. He pecked Louis twice more, “I love you so fucking much”

Louis heavily inhaled and mumbled a slew of swears on an exhale. He kissed Harry once more before settling on his haunches. Drizzling some of the clear liquid onto his fingers, Louis rubbed them together and reached between Harry’s thighs. Harry’s nose scrunched at the coolness of the slick and the unfamiliarity of being touched along his entrance. 

“Just breathe, baby,” Louis cooed as he circled the pad of his index finger against Harry’s rim. 

The muscles of Harry’s stomach fluttered as he focused on slowing his breathing, fully putting his trust in Louis’ touch. He leaned all the way back and spread his thighs wider. Harry sucked in a deep breath through his nose and slowly exhaled from his mouth. On his release of air, Louis started to slip his pointer finger inside. Louis rested his free hand flat against Harry’s lower stomach, applying a slight pressure as he pushed down. Harry’s vision was dusted with specks of white as if stars were dancing along his eyes. His body was lax underneath Louis’ as he allowed himself to take the other man in. 

“Holy fuck,” Louis admonished as he slid his finger all the way to the third knuckle. He looked at Harry as if he was a wonder of the world when he said, “Fuckin’ hell, baby, it’s like you were made for this.”

“Yeah?” He breathlessly laughed, choking halfway through when Louis slowly pumped his finger. 

Louis nodded, completely serious as he sighed, “Fuck, _yeah_.” 

Harry whimpered, his body keening at the praise. Louis twisted his finger and shallowly thrusted until he was smoothly gliding along Harry’s walls. The feeling of unfamiliarity was replaced with something climbing towards delirium and Harry was already desperate for something more. He canted his hips down and clawed at Louis’ back for him to give Harry something new. 

“Fucking minx,” Louis panted out, teasing the pad of his middle finger along Harry’s rim.

“ _Oh god_ ,” Harry sunk his rails into Louis’ back, making the other man hiss. 

Louis slowly pushed his second finger inside with the first, instantly pulling a guttural moan from Harry. His teeth bared at the slight sting of his body stretching around Louis’ fingers. Pausing for a moment to let his body adjust, Louis mouthed the base of Harry’s cock. A high pitched whine pierced from Harry’s mouth at the overwhelming feeling. His rim tightened around Louis’ knuckles and both men moaned in response. 

“Fuck me,” Harry deliriously slurred, his head lolling to the side. 

Louis let out a strangled moan and began to pump his fingers, alternating between sharp thrusts and slow drags. Harry’s foot kicked out when he felt Louis corkscrew his fingers together, opening him even wider. It was the most obscene Harry had ever felt as he laid on the floor of a greenhouse, gorgeous man between his thighs, deftly opening him with his fingers. 

Harry could honestly say that he never thought losing his virginity would go quite like that. 

“Tell me how you feel,” Louis practically begged, his fingers scissoring wide. 

“Fuckin’ full,” Harry whined, his voice a pitch higher than normal. “So full of you.”

“Oh, _shit_ ,” Louis gasped. He quickened his movements, “Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

Harry blearily blinked his eyes open to see Louis already looming over him with an intensity that nearly had him coming. He pushed his hips down onto Louis’ fingers and roughly arched his back as an unexpected heat flooded inside of him. A sharp moan tore from his throat as the sensation overcame all of his senses.

Louis smugly panted a laugh, “There we go.” 

“What – I,” Harry disjointedly cut off as Louis brushed against the same spot against his wall.

A kitten-like mewl purred from him as Louis incessantly rubbed circled into the bundle of nerves. Harry tugged on a fistful of Louis’ hair while his rim spasmed around Louis’ fingers. 

“Lou, I need you in me,” Harry gasped as heat coiled in his gut. He felt tears gather in the corner of his eyes as he loudly sniffed, “Need you, _please_.”

“Oh, baby,” Louis hushed, carefully slipping his fingers out. 

Harry whined at the emptiness that kept him on edge and he was vaguely aware that tears were slowly streaking his cheeks. Louis thumbed at the wetness with his clean hand before ducking forward to lick over salted skin. 

“ _Louis_.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you,” Louis nodded, leaning back to quickly strip down.

Harry between his legs and pressed against his rim, moaning as he rubbed over the sensitive skin. Louis was stammering out swears and admirations as he slicked his flushed cock with lube. When he settled between Harry’s legs, Harry wrapped his thighs around Louis’ waist. They’re gazes locked as Louis gripped the base of his length and pressed the tip of his cock against Harry’s rim. On an exhale, Louis rocked his hips forwards and joined them in the most intimate way possible. 

Everything inside of Harry unfurred into glorious heat as Louis completely bottomed out. It was as if the sky had broken open and doused them in starlight that had never existed before they were physically connected together. Harry’s lips were parted into an oval and his heels pressed into the dip of Louis’ spine to draw him impossibly closer. 

The heavy drag of Louis’ cock along his walls was the embodiment of nirvana. Louis curled his forearms underneath Harry’s head and pressed their chests flushed together. Harry whimpered as his cock was trapped between their abdomens, getting the perfect amount of friction. Louis ground his hips forwards until their balls lightly slapped together. 

“Love you,” Louis vehemently said into Harry’s mouth as he kissed him. 

Harry sucked Louis’ tongue into his mouth before swirling their tongues together. Louis rocked his hips back and then thrusted forwards in a sure stroke. Their movements weren’t quick, but they were the most reverent actions that Harry had ever experienced. 

He nipped at Louis’ lip and fervently panted, “Love you.”

Louis lowered his mouth to Harry’s neck and licked over the damp skin. Moans freely slipped from Harry as bruises were suckled into his ivory skin. Louis sharply snapped his hips at an upward angle, the head of his cock pressing into the bundle of nerves. Harry canted his hips to chase the feeling, his breath getting caught inside his throat. With every passing minute, Louis’ thrusts became disjointed and it only made Harry more desperate to come. 

“M’ close,” Harry whimpered, tucking his face into Louis’ neck. He gasped as Louis continued to fuck him open, “Oh, god. Oh, fucking god.”

“Come on, baby,” Louis gritted from between his teeth. He kissed a bead of sweat from Harry’s brow, “Wanna feel you come on my cock, baby.” 

The heat that had been tightly coiled inside of his gut finally snapped. Harry’s thighs shook as come painted their chests white. His rim clenched around Louis’ cock, making the other man gutturally moan. Louis sporadically ground his hips forwards, fingers pulling Harry’s hair. Harry was roughly panting underneath him, feeling too exhausted to murmur any encouragements. 

“ _Shit_ ,” Louis suddenly gasped, his hips jerkily snapping. “Gonna come. M’ gonna –”

Harry moaned as Louis choked on his words while his cock pulsated deep inside of Harry. He petted over Louis’ back as he came, mumbling incoherent sentences. Louis’ lips kissed every inch of Harry’s skin that he could reach while he came down from his orgasm. The greenhouse was filled with their labored breaths, the glass steaming over with condensation. When Louis pulled out a minute later, he instantly curled around Harry’s body. 

“You’re everything,” Louis mumbled, his arm tightening its grip over Harry’s waist.

Harry blearily beamed and scooted back, aligning their bodies from head to toe. He felt sleep threaten to lull him under as Louis’ warmth coddled him like a blanket. His heartrate began to slow, as did his breathing. Harry brought Louis’ hand to his mouth and kissed his palm.

_“You’re everything.”_

****

Four months later, Harry would look back to that moment as it being the final perfect night.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommend listening to Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine while you read.
> 
> One more to go...
> 
> -Lis xx

Teeth trailed over the shell of Harry’s ear, gently nibbling on the soft skin. A low hum vibrated from his chest and he shifted his hips backwards. Louis kissed over his bare shoulder, languidly dragging his lips with every press. The right corner of Harry’s mouth twitched into a grin. Louis’ palm slid along the dip of Harry’s waist, his touch delicate and adoring. 

“Time to wake up, baby,” Louis softly cooed. His fingers lightly pinched the soft skin along Harry’s hipbone, “Gotta get you home.”

Harry made a displeased noise, “No.”

Louis huffed a laugh into Harry’s dewy skin, “No?” He kissed Harry’s shoulder blade, “Just gonna live here?”

“If you stay with me, yeah,” Harry sleepily garbled. 

He felt the way Louis’ mouth stretched into a beam against his skin. Louis tightened his hold along the jut of Harry’s hip before letting go. A frown tipped Harry’s mouth and a disgruntled puff of air pushed from his lips. Louis gently rolled Harry onto his back. The moment his bum hit the blanket, he uncomfortably hissed. A dull ache throbbed at the base of his spine from the previous night. 

Wiping sleep from his eyes, Harry blinked up at the ceiling of the greenhouse. He was disoriented to see the purpling sky still blanketing them in a muted darkness. Lethargically, he lolled his head to the side. Louis was propped on his forearm and his body was angled to face Harry’s. There was a sated smile playing along the curve of his lips. 

“Mornin’,” Louis whispered, his fingertips trailing over Harry’s sternum. 

Harry reached out and brushed his thumb over the scruff that dusted Louis’ chin. He smiled, “Good morning.”

Nervousness flitted over Louis’ eyes before he asked, “How d’you feel?”

“Sore,” Harry drawled out as he shifted his hips. He winked at Louis, “Worth it, though.” 

Relief relaxed the puckered skin between Louis’ eyebrows, his mouth curling into a smirk, “Yeah?”

Harry hummed in affirmation and slid his hand to Louis’ shoulder, “Would even be up to do it again.”

Louis brightly laughed, “That so?”

Harry giggled as he nodded, pushing himself upright to kiss Louis. Their mouths teased each other with soft brushes before Louis lowly moaned and nipped Harry’s lip. His eyes rolled back as Louis pressed his thumb against the corner of Harry’s mouth. A pitiful whimper slipped from Louis’ lips before he pulled back and pecked Harry on the cheek.

“I really have to get you back, Stud,” He sighed. 

“But –”

Louis kissed the protest from Harry’s mouth, “ _Later_.”

Harry groaned and slumped back, purposefully jutting his bottom lip, “You’re the worst.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, “I love you, too.”

Warmth flushed Harry’s skin, his mouth automatically curling into a toothy grin. He leaned forward and kissed Louis’ neck, “I love you.” 

“Never gonna get tired of hearin’ you say that,” Louis murmured. 

“Good,” Harry cheekily smacked another kiss to his skin, “Cos I’m not gonna stop anytime soon.”

Louis groaned, “You’re really making this whole _bein’ responsible thing_ , very difficult.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“You’re a fuckin’ menace.” 

Harry shrugged and sat upright, “You’ve mentioned.”

Louis snorted and flicked Harry’s shin, “Get changed. Sun’s gonna come up soon.”

“What’re you gonna do about all the –” Harry cut off, his hand loosely gesturing towards the blanket and picnic basket.

“Pick it up before work when I have the truck.”

“Oh, right.”

The two men got changed in comfortable silence, exchanging flirtatious glances and private smiles. With one last longing look to the inside of the greenhouse, Harry stepped outside and waited for Louis. Perched back on the handlebars of Louis’ bicycle, they made their way back towards the plantation. Songbirds began to greet the day with lyrical chirps, swooping over the rosy horizon in fluid movements. Louis’ breaths came out in light puffs as he pedaled and Harry didn’t feel remotely prepared to be left on his own at the plantation. Louis stopped at the end of the drive, tucking them behind the trunk of a tree so if anybody was awake, they wouldn’t see their figures. Harry checked the yard before he gently pushed Louis against the bark. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Harry mumbled, eyes downcast to their shoes. 

Louis heavily exhaled, “Me either, baby.” He hooked their index fingers together, “You go to the firm today, right?”

Harry dreadfully nodded, “Don’t remind me.”

“Sorry,” Louis apologetically frowned. He swayed their hands, “Can I see ya tomorrow?”

Harry’s expression must have been painfully vulnerable because Louis’ eyes went dull with despondency. 

“You just went out with her yesterday,” Louis mumbled, finger slipping from Harry’s. 

“I know,” Harry sighed and reached out to firmly clasp their hands together. He helplessly shook his head, “You know it wasn’t my idea, Lou.” When Louis tightly nodded, Harry nervously continued, “It’s, um, with both our families. Sounded sorta important to my parents…I dunno why, though.”

A nauseating heaviness saturated the air between them. 

“Yeah, you do,” Louis miserably muttered. “Baby, can you just –,” He pulled his hand from Harry’s and self-consciously crossed his arms, “Please don’t lie to me about this. Even if you think it’s gonna hurt my feelings.”

“I’m not,” Harry insisted, reaching out to touch Louis’ arms.

Louis stepped out of his reach and asked, “What’s the dinner for?” 

Harry dropped his hands and timidly wrought them, “They didn’t tell me.” 

Louis narrowed his eyes, disbelief clear on his expression. 

“They _didn’t_ ,” Harry enunciated. He scrubbed a hand over his face, “But…”

“But,” Louis urged. 

Harry lowered his head and said barely above a whisper, “It’s probably to talk about an engagement.”

The momentary suspended silence was deafening. 

“Wow,” Louis brokenly chuckled and wiped a hand over his face. He shook his head and grabbed his bike, “You really know how to break a guy’s heart, Stud.” 

“Lou, please,” Harry choked out, scrambling to stop Louis from leaving. “Please, listen to me – I,” His voice shattered over a sob, “M’ not gonna go through with it. I don’t, _fuck_ , I don’t want her.” 

Louis hesitated, eyes flashing towards Harry’s. There was a thick film glassing over them and Harry wanted to sink into the earth’s surface at the knowledge that he put it there. He desperately tugged at the hair that started to brush the nape of his neck before crowding Louis, hands urgently cradling the other man’s jaw. He whimpered when three iridescent droplets streaked Louis’ cheeks. Harry ducked his head and kissed them away, thumbs intently stroking the height of his cheekbones. 

“I love you so much,” Harry whispered and pressed their foreheads flush together. He nudged Louis’ nose with his own, “You gotta believe me. I – Fuck, I _need_ you to know.” 

Louis sniffled and looked down, his thick eyelashes clotted together. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he quietly asked, “You’re gonna tell them no?” 

Harry leaned back and nodded. 

Louis bit his bottom lip, wrinkles linking his forehead in concentration. He looked from the ground to Harry and visibly swallowed, “Promise me.” 

“I promise,” Harry earnestly said, catching a couple more tears with the pad of his thumb. 

After a moment, Louis slowly nodded. 

“Okay.” 

****

Harry followed five feet behind his father as they strode towards the main office of the firm. Throughout the afternoon, Robin continuously blabbered about sales charting at unheard of rates. His expectantly smug grins warranted bland responses from Harry. It took every ounce of self-control in Harry’s body not to curl into a ball once Louis had left the plantation that morning. Everything felt fragile between them and he needed to be with his boyfriend, reassuring him, instead of wasting time at the tobacco firm. 

“Son, I want to talk to you about something important,” Robin tersely announced as he ushered Harry into his office. 

“Alright,” Harry impassively responded, sinking into a chair across from his father’s desk. 

Robin seated himself and folded his hands on atop the wooden surface. He carefully eyed Harry before opening a side drawer and pulling out a crystal glass of bourbon. Harry’s eyebrows pinched when his father materialized two glasses from the drawer as well, promptly filling them with the heady liquid. 

Harry wearily took a proffered glass, “What’s this –”

“I’m retiring after the season and I want you to take over the company.”

The glass nearly fell from Harry’s limp grasp. 

“Of course I’ll still keep an eye,” Robin winked, “But, it’s your time to take ‘er on.” 

Harry’s throat was dry, unable to produce a sound. 

Robin arrogantly chuckled, “Speechless, huh?” He sipped his bourbon and cleared his throat, “Thought you might be.”

“But – I thought,” Harry eventually flustered for the right words. 

He thought he had more time. 

“You’ve been preparing for this since you could walk,” Robin carried on as he mindlessly swished the bourbon. He affirmatively nodded, “You’re ready.”

Harry shook his head, “M’ really –”

“I know you won’t let me down,” Robin clipped, his tone sounding more like a threat than a reassurance. 

“I really don’t want to disappoint you, but –”

“Good,” His father challengingly cut him off. His mustache bristled as he bit out, “Then, don’t.”

Harry’s forearms heavily rested onto the tops of his thighs, voice lodged in his throat. It was too soon. Harry hadn’t been sure if he wanted to inherit the company and now he had a few months before it was officially his. A conniving voice inside his head sneered that it was his own fault for never speaking up. Even as his father haughtily cheered to Harry’s successful future with the company and a prosperous impending marriage, Harry couldn’t stand up for himself. 

****

The wooden planks of the dock excruciatingly creaked as Harry sprinted, his chest heaving with disjointed breaths. He ripped the suit jacked from his frame and blindly tossed it behind him. Wind berated his bare skin in searing whips. Time slipped away as tears clung to his skin like cancerously twined ivy. His arms pumped in synchronization with his bounds, each one bringing him closer to the edge. The sole of his shoe pushed from the final plank. Clenching his eyes shut, Harry catapulted into freezing water. 

Water encapsulated him as if it was claiming his body for its own. For a moment, he wanted it to. Harry heavily sank, his spine bowing as his limbs spread into the deep. His chin tilted upwards and he exhaled. Air bubbles ballooned from his mouth, his body drifting lower until he laid flat against the bottom of the lake. The thick material of his suit became waterlogged, but it was the burden of his secrets that pinned him to the mud as if they were an industrial anchor.

Harry opened his eyes even though all he saw was obscure darkness. The moonlight that knew his truths was fractured, nothing more than a distant thought at the bottom of the lake. Dirt gathered underneath his groping fingernails while he held himself under. His lungs screeched in protest. For once, Harry’s vision reflected every benevolent thought of despair that had been impregnated inside of him since he was a child. 

Screaming his lungs raw, Harry could not fathom why he only felt clarity when he was drowning. 

****

Louis’ front door gradually swung open after the second knock. 

“Harry?” He instantly frowned once his eyes darted over Harry’s shivering frame. “Baby?!” Louis quickly pulled him inside and curled his body around Harry, sharply hissing when they aligned. “Fuckin’ hell,” He kicked the door shut and ushered Harry towards the stairs, “Baby, you’re fuckin’ freezing!” 

Harry slumped into Louis’ side without a word, his limbs exhausted even though they were torridly trembling. He barely recollected climbing from the security of the lake to the dock. All Harry knew was that he stretched across the biting wood, gaze unseeingly locked on the sky as it morphed into a sapphire pigment. Only as his heart began to ache inside his chest, did he lucidly shuffle towards his truck. There was a chance Harry could have crashed as he wound his truck along narrow backroads, but he couldn’t find the energy to mind as Louis led them into the bathroom. 

Louis swiftly flicked on a silver tap and filled his bath with water, steam pouring from the basin as it heated. He spun back towards Harry and undressed him, fingers shaking almost as badly as Harry’s. The material of his clothes clung to his skin as they were peeled off of him, splattering onto the floor in a sopping mess once Louis dropped them. The pads of his hands were horridly wrinkled and if he was in a better state, he might have been embarrassed. Harry lolled his head forwards as he was finally stripped down, putting trust into Louis’ touch. 

“What’ve you done?” Louis whispered as his hands trailed over the contours of Harry’s chest. 

Once surface level was a quarter from the top of the bathtub, Louis slowly guided Harry into the water. Harry flinched at the stark difference of temperature, feeling as in he was being assaulted by a hundred knives. Louis gently hushed him and kept a steady hand on Harry’s elbow while he was lowered. Harry blinked down and watched as a teardrop splashed against the water, listlessly comingling together as one. 

Harry stretched along the bottom of the bath, allowing the heat to lick over his numbed skin. His head wilted against the edge of the tub, eyes blearily watching Louis tug off his cream sweater and pale-yellow boxers. With careful hands, Louis eased Harry forward and slipped behind him so Harry could lie against his chest. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s upper-body and tucked his nose into Harry’s neck. 

“What happened?” Louis croaked, his voice muffled by Harry’s skin. 

“Went to our lake,” Harry blankly answered, voice void of the emotions that had been constricting his chest since he left his father’s office. 

He could feel the way Louis’ mouth twisted into a frown. Louis rubbed his palms over Harry’s biceps as if it would make him warmer than the water already was. “You fancied yerself a swim,” He weightily paused, “ _In the middle of November?_ ” 

He stiffly nodded, “Yeah.”

Louis voice was thick with trepidation, “That’s all?”

Harry swallowed the truth that he was begging for the pressure of the water to sort out his mind like it had when he realized his feelings for Louis. 

He nodded again, “Was just being stupid.”

“Fucks sake,” Louis let out a relieved laugh. He firmly kissed the knob of Harry’s collarbone, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” 

“I love you.”

It was the only truth Harry knew and he wanted to cling to it as long as time would allow. 

Louis contently hummed, “And I love you.”

Harry went lax in Louis’ hold as an internal mantra began to silently beg. 

_Never let me go. Never let me go. Never let me go._

****

As daybreak steadily crept over Dahlonega, streaming her gorgeous beams of orange and yellow hues into Louis’ bedroom, Harry already laid awake. He hadn’t slept the entire night, choosing to watch Louis instead. The other man had his arm slung underneath Harry’s shoulders and his ankles tucked between Harry’s calves. Quiet puffs of air pushed from Louis’ rosebud lips, his chest steadily rising and falling with each breath. Every muscle inside of Harry’s body begged for relief, but he wasn’t going to give in. Not yet. Not while he could hold on to a false sense of paradise for just a bit longer. 

In three days, it would be Thanksgiving. In one day, Louis would be getting on a plane for New York. In fifteen hours, Harry would know if Louis would still want him as a part of his life. 

_Never let me go. Never let me go. Never let me go._

At the bottom of the lake, Harry decided he would take over the company. He owed it to his parents to fulfil the dynasty they had created for their name. It was everything that had been ingrained into him for the past eighteen years. Along with taking over the company came an affluent marriage. Something that he could never have with Louis no matter how badly every inch of him craved it. It was irrational to think that Louis would stay in Georgia for him, but, Harry allowed himself to dream a bit longer. 

The sun-kissed skin between Louis’ brows puckered as a kitten-like yawn stretched his mouth. Harry felt his own lips twitch in endearment at the sight. Every small twitch Louis made was being mentally catalogued into an iron clad safe in the back of Harry’s mind. He reached out and with a feather-light touch, traced over Louis’ jawline. Louis’ eyelashes fluttered before he sleepily blinked them open. The loveliest blue irises that Harry couldn’t dare to even imagine illuminated into something almost godlike when Louis looked back at him. 

“Good mornin’, baby,” Louis murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. 

Louis rolled over so his body was flush against Harry’s chest. He lowly hummed as his hands trailed over Harry’s milky skin. Tears stung Harry’s eyes at the purity of it all. Staving off the urge to cry, Harry closed his eyes and focused on the way Louis’ body slotted against his own as if they were once one person. Carding his fingers into Louis’ hair, he held him even closer. The rhythmic pace of their heartbeats harmonized as they lazily touched each other’s bare skin. 

“Morning, Lou.”

“D’you have time for breakfast before the luncheon with – Um, with them?” 

He really didn’t. 

“Yeah,” Harry quietly said, selfishly holding onto Louis for just an hour longer. 

“Excellent,” Louis punctuated with a kiss to Harry’s neck. He scooted back and winked, “Cos you have yet to try my famous pancakes.”

Harry weakly laughed, “Famous, huh?”

Louis nodded and smacked a kiss to Harry’s cheek before climbing out of bed. Harry watched Louis’ hips swing as he picked up a pair of boxers and slipped them over the curve of his bum. He looked down at the empty space in the mattress, his fingers chasing over the warmth that Louis left behind. 

“Get your lazy ass outta bed,” Louis indignantly huffed, resting his hands on his hips. He smirked and cocked his head to the side, “I’m tryin’ to domestically woo you, here.”

That was the precise moment when Harry could feel his heart shatter. 

“Okay, oaky,” He held up his hands and got out of bed. 

Harry sat at a dining table as Louis flitted around the kitchen. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice layered the morning with her latest, _Anything Goes_. Louis sang along under his breath, his body swaying in time as he mixed pancake batter in a bowl. Harry openly watched the way Louis rocked his weight to the bare tips of his toes before lowering back down to his soles. His lips pursed when he whistled the second verse, sounding lovelier than any swallow to ever take flight. Louis lethargically rolled his neck before fluidly spinning towards the stove. Harry knew every pulsation of his heart was continuing for the sole purpose of memorizing the details of the other man. 

Unable to stop himself, Harry stood from the rickety chair and closed the distance between them. His chest pressed flush against Louis’ back. Reaching over Louis’ shoulder, Harry plucked the bowl of batter from Louis’ hands and set it on the counter. He gently took Louis’ fingers in his own and turned the other man to face him. 

“What’re you doin’, Styles?” Louis teasingly narrowed his eyes.

Harry slowly walked them to the center of the room, “Dance with me.”

The skin by the corner of Louis’ eyes wrinkled and an exhale relaxed his posture. He nodded, quietly murmuring, “Yeah, okay.”

With one palm splayed over Louis’ lower back and the other firmly gripping Louis’ hand, they languidly danced across the kitchen floor for the remainder of the morning. Their hips moved together in a simplicity that only came around once in a lifetime. Harry swallowed the innate craving to offer Louis everything he had. He clamped his eyes shut and held his lover closer, leaving his heart with the sweetest person he had ever known. 

_Never let me go. Never let me go. Never let me go._

****

“Where the hell have you been?!”

Harry closed the front door, a shaky exhale leaving his mouth before he turned towards his mother. Curlers were lodged in her auburn hair and row of crystals looped around her throat. Her cheeks were ruddy, but not from a powdered blush that Harry had known her to own. Anne’s eyes alone would have been enough to reveal that she was furious. 

“Bookstore,” Harry emotionlessly said and set his keys down.

“I swear you’re tryin’ to kill me, Harry,” Anne fitfully rolled her eyes and raised her hands.

Harry sighed and walked towards the staircase, “They won’t be here for another half-hour, Mama.”

“Exactly!” She shrilled, following after him. “You still have to –”

Harry turned on his heel and brashly snapped, “I’m already gonna marry the fuckin’ girl, can you give me a goddamn break!” 

Anne gaped at him, her jaw slack and eyes unnaturally wide. 

Feeling all of his emotions clawing at the lining of his stomach, Harry spun back around and ran up the stairs. His mother didn’t call after him. He silently betted if he was to look over his shoulder, she would still me motionless at the base of the staircase. Harry didn’t stop, though, not until he was alone in his room. 

Sobs tore through his throat as he wildly paced across the floor. His nails dug into his scalp as he yanked at his hair. He knew what was going to be expected of him that evening, but he couldn’t bear it. Thick tears were unabashedly streaming as he thought of his last kiss with Louis. It was tender, but too fleeting. Too chaste because Louis didn’t _know_. He didn’t what was going to happen. The light of his life was unaware that he would never want to kiss Harry again after tonight. 

“Oh my god,” Harry gasped and dropped to his knees. His back arched over, curling in on himself as he weakly begged, “I can’t do it. I can’t do this. _Fuck_.”

The soft skin of his palms stung when he slammed his hands against the floor. He roughly inhaled through his nose and balled his fists until his knuckles pinched ivory. His body brutally shook as he collapsed flat onto the floorboards. 

“Harry!” His father’s voice called from downstairs. “Be down here in five minutes, I wanna give you somethin’!”

Harry didn’t have to be downstairs to know that it would be his great-grandmother’s engagement ring. He covered his ears and pushed onto his skull, begging for everything to just _stop_. His body itched to be back in the arms of the lake where everything was drowned out into nothingness. He wanted to go back before he had made his decision. Harry steadied his breathing and centralized every thought onto the pressure against his head. 

“C’mon, son!” Robin shouted a few minutes later. His voice barreled straight into Harry’s heart, “Don’t disappoint me t’night!”

It was the unforgiving reminder his mind needed to hear.

Unfeelingly, Harry dragged himself from the floor and got changed in the newly tailored suit that was splayed over his duvet. His face was cleaned with frigid water and his hair neatly waxed to perfection. The crimson that rimmed his eye sockets remained as Robin rested a heavy onyx box in the palm of his hand. Martha wearily watched the exchange, her lips pressed into a tight line. No one commented on the puffiness of his eyes. His mother kissed his cheek and his father clapped him on the shoulder as the front door was opened to reveal three other empty shells of human beings. 

On the evening of November 20th, 1934, Harry Styles proposed to Faye Mason.

During the following week, it would be reported in the local papers that the “no-longer bachelor, Harry Styles” was “so overcome” with emotions that he promptly drove to the local florist to buy a dozen roses for his “stunning fiancé, Faye Mason.” High-society would congratulate the couple in fine print, assured to get their own names quoted for history to see. Plastered in the center of the two-page spread would be a grainy photograph of Harry and Faye. His eyes blank and lifeless while she beamed at the camera, diamond ring shimmering on her left hand. Journalists called for an April wedding, claiming that it would be the perfect entry of not just the wedding season, but Harry’s takeover for half the share of Styles & Williams. 

What the papers failed to report was that Harry Styles drove to a small house located on the outskirts of town, just ten minutes after the engagement. They did not comment how it took one look at the young man’s face for Louis Tomlinson, a twenty-two year old mechanic, to know exactly what had occurred that evening. Journalists skimmed over the hours of groveling outside of a locked door, pressed trousers destroyed from chaffing against the pavement. There were no witnesses to describe the distraught heartbreak that splintered two kindred souls on the autumn night. Most importantly, the papers never mentioned that on November 21st, 1934, Louis Tomlinson left Dahlonega, suitcase in hand, on an airplane destined for New York. 

****

_December 4th, 1934_

_My deepest love,_

_It’s been two weeks without you and I feel like I’ve lost half of me. Really, the best part of me._

_I’m writing you from my new apartment, just a few blocks from Charlotte’s university. It isn’t much more than a kitchen and bedroom, but I’ve painted the walls that color of blue that you’ve always gone on about. You know, the blue that’s kind of like that blanket I had? Anyways, I think you would love it. I picked a place with two closets and some storage space. I didn’t bring a lot with me, gave most of my furniture to Zayn so there would be enough room for another person. Sounds a bit ridiculous now that I’ve written it down, but I trust you to understand why I did it._

_I went to the parade with Charlotte on Thanksgiving. It would have been more remarkable if you were there._

_I miss you so fucking much. My stomach hurts with how badly I want to hold you again. Fuck, do I want to be able to hold you. While everything aches, I somehow feel numb at the same time. It’s maddening. I keep expecting to wake up with you by my side. I miss your touch. I miss your smell. Did I ever tell you that you smell sweet like vanilla? Sometimes you smell like honeysuckles after we’ve been to the lake. I wish I could kiss you._

_I saw the engagement announcement in the papers. You didn’t even try to smile, did you? The only reason I am setting my own pride aside is because of that photo. You will never be happy as long as you stay locked away in Dahlonega. You know what, Harry? The worst part is that I understand why you stayed with your family. I know why you’re not tucked against my side in bed. You want to please your parents and I don’t blame you for that. But, fuck, I know I’d make you happier than anybody else._

_Even after everything, I know that you make me happier than anybody or anything ever could._

_Baby, I love you at twenty-two. I will still love you at eighty and when it’s my time to go, I’ll look at you and be able to say that I have loved you since you were eighteen. Fuck, I’ll still love you even when I drift from this life and into the next. This is my promise to you. While I might not have the financial structure that the Mason’s or your parents do, I have my love and it’s all yours for the taking._

_Choose love, Harry._

_Choose me._

_Page sixty-two,  
Lou_

****

_December 10th, 1934_

_Sweet Creature,_

_I love you._

_I never thought I would have the chance to tell you again when you left for New York. The moment I saw your name on the return address, the first thought that came to mind was that before anything else, you needed to know I am in love with you. Although my actions might not reflect my affection, you have to understand that my love for you is genuine. It’s eternal and like you said, it will outlive even us. Lou, that, I am sure of._

_You found Charlotte after all? Good. You deserve to be surrounded by family. I wish I could have been that for you. You will always be my family. Regardless of anything that you take from this letter, know that you are my family and I love you._

_While you understand why I did not leave, I understand why you did. It was unfair of me to suggest that you stay in Georgia while I was engaged to somebody else. Writing that I am sorry for what I’ve done does is not nearly enough, but it feels even worse to not say it at all. I’m so sorry._

_I wish I could be in New York with you…The apartment sounds lovely._

_You were right about the engagement photograph. There was no use in pretending to feel joyful about something that has absolutely gutted me open. Nobody else noticed how transparent I am, but you. Not that I would ever expect someone else to understand me the way you have. You understood me since we first met._

_You are the love of my life, but I cannot leave what my family has spent decades building for me. I know it doesn’t make sense to you since you were able to leave your mother once she found out about Riley. I wish I could leave. It might not seem it, but there’s nobody else but you. I miss you, but I can’t abandon my responsibility._

_Please, come home. If not to stay, come back to talk things through._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_December 18th, 1934_

_My deepest love,_

_Stud, your parents didn’t build that legacy for you. The company has never been your dream and likely, it never will be. They built it for themselves. Surely, you understand that by now? Regardless of how much I miss you, I won’t come back for a life of hiding away where I only get to have you a portion of the time. I love you, Harry. I don’t want to share you._

_I’ll only say it once more, even though it will hurt when you’re bound to refuse._

_Choose love, Harry._

_Choose me._

_Page sixty-two,  
Lou_

****

_December 24th, 1934_

_Sweet Creature,_

_Today is your birthday and I am spending it at our lake. I hope that you spent the day with good people. It would be a lie if I said that I didn’t wish I was one of them. Tomorrow will be Christmas and soon enough, the New Year. It is unimaginable to believe that I will not be spending it with you. We had even talked about it back in September. Do you remember that? You were a bit tired coming home from the shop, so maybe you wouldn’t. I remember, though. January was going to be the fresh beginning for us._

_My home is in Georgia, Louis. While the company might not be my dream, this is still my home. Regardless of Faye, I belong here. You do, too. You belong here with me._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_January 2nd, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_I checked with the post to see if they lost your response because nothing had been dropped by the plantation this week. Tommy never found anything and I wanted to make sure my last letter made it to you._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_January 12th, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_I have been sitting at my desk for the past hour, unsure where to begin or end._

_Two nights ago, I ran into Zayn outside of Blossoms. He was walking towards Old Dog with one of the guys from the shop, I couldn’t be sure his name, but it doesn’t matter. Zayn saw me. Lou, I do not even know how to put into words the way he looked at me. There wasn’t even anger…It was worse than that. A part of me expected him to punch me right there, out front of the restaurant. An even bigger part of me hoped he would. I reckon I would have deserved it_

_He didn’t._

_Zayn told me I was a coward and started to walk away, but I panicked. I stopped him, embarrassingly begging if he had heard from you during the past two weeks. I never got a response from my third letter and was worried that you already moved or something. You know what happened? He looked at me, almost insignificantly, and said he rings you just about every day. You had gotten my letters. Zayn left without saying anything else. He did glance at me before walking into Old Dog, and he was almost sad? I probably imagined it, though._

_He wasn’t wrong, was he? I am a coward, Lou._

_I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night and only became more frustrated. I feel so angry lately. I am angry with myself for taking the easy way out. Angry that this is the world I have to be a part of. I am angry that I miss you even though it has been over a month since I have seen you._

_I keep coming back to one question since seeing Zayn. Since you talk to him, maybe you know the answer._

_Why didn’t he hit me?_

_I think I want him to._

_I still love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

 

****

_January 26th, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_On Monday, I had to go to a jeweler for wedding bands. I didn’t even realize that I had picked out one for you until Mama asked why I had two men’s rings. She had me put it back and focus on something daintier. I couldn’t focus, though. I reckon I haven’t focused on anything other than you since we met last July._

_Today, I went back to the store and bought the ring._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_January 27th, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_The moment I sent yesterday’s letter to the post, I realized that I didn’t tell you I love you. There wasn’t time to go back and I worried over it all night. I hope when you opened the first letter, you didn’t think I had entirely given up on what we have. My love for you hasn’t changed. It will never change._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_February 1st, 1935,_

_Sweet Creature,_

_Today is my birthday. Similar to every other night since you left, I wished for you to come home to me. Maybe this time you will._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_February 19th, 1935,_

_Sweet Creature,_

_I haven’t slept much since you’ve left. Honestly, I am unsure if I have even dared to sleep once because when I close my eyes, I still see you._

_I see the way you looked on the night we met. Even before I understood my own attraction to you, I knew that you were one of the sole most important people I would ever come across. I was that sure of you from one night. Sometimes I see the way you looked when you told me you loved me. I can’t ever get enough of those visions, but they’re too few and fleeting. My subconscious probably knows that I don’t deserve to relive it. One of my biggest regrets is never telling you how beautiful you looked that night, Lou. You looked gorgeous. You are gorgeous._

_The most difficult times are filled with the one I see the most. I see the way you looked when you locked me out during our last night. Each time I see it, I wake up already crying and covered in sweat. Covered in guilt. I don’t think I could forget the way you looked when you said I was just as bad as Riley. I fucking hate myself for that. I’m so sorry._

_I could never deserve you, but I would give anything to look at you one more time. You are still everything to me._

_Ever since I met you, you have been everything._

_I love you._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_March 18th, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_Four months ago, on November 18th, you made love to me._

_I managed to bribe Mr. Gibson with a pack of newline cigars so I could have the keys to the greenhouse. I’m writing this in the spot where we were that night. There are fewer daisies since then, but this is the closest I have felt to you since you left. That was the final perfect night._

_It’s different this time. I’ve had most of a bottle of rum and can’t seem to stop crying. Feels like I’m always crying these months._

_I’m hurting all the time. Every minute of every hour, it doesn’t stop._

_The wedding is next month and everything is out of control. Faye is interested in creating some fanfare and our parents are blindly nodding along. She wants an ice sculpture of just her. Who requests something that absurd for an exchange of vows? Nothing is the way I ever imagined my own wedding to be like. Did you know that I always keep the wedding ring I bought you inside my pocket? It’s in my pocket right now. It helps me to think about how different it would be if we were getting married. We would be surrounded by the people we loved and who loved us in return. You’d look gorgeous in a tuxedo, wearing the cufflinks I bought you. There wouldn’t be reporters or members of high-society. I’m sure it would be the happiest day of my life._

_You and I never needed much, did we?_

_Every day the wedding gets closer, the more I’m sure that I made a mistake. I should have chosen you without you even asking me to. Nothing has been okay since I lost you. And that’s just it, isn’t it? I probably deserve this. It was my fault. I should have gone with you to New York, Lou. That night, you asked me to go and what did I do? I laughed and told you it was ridiculous._

_I got engaged to someone I do not care about and then when the man I love asked me to move away with him, I laughed._

_What the fuck is wrong with me?_

_Did I mention in my last letter that I quit playing music at the club? Nothing about performing is enjoyable. Niall doesn’t speak to me anymore. He doesn’t even try. It’s my fault. I think about telling him about us nearly every day. I also think about visiting Dempsey’s and speaking with Zayn, but…What would I even say? Sorry for breaking your best friend’s heart and driving him out of the state? Lou, I feel like I’m dying here._

_I need you tonight. It is unfair to feel that way, but, you always asked for honesty. My honesty is that I miss you so much that I’m constantly sick to my gut. I love you so much that I fucking still can’t sleep without thinking about you._

_There’s something about this greenhouse, Louis._

_I’m sorry._

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_March 26th,, 1935_

_Sweet Creature,_

_Even after four months of silence, I can feel your heart inside of mine with every breath I take. Why didn’t anyone tell me how badly this would hurt? I’ve spent years studying literature, learning mathematics and everything else that a respectable man was meant to know. None of it taught me how I’m supposed to exist in a world where we’re not together._

_I get married a month from today and yet, I’m still writing to you._

_I wish I could stop loving you._

_Why can’t it just stop?_

_Page sixty-two,  
Harry_

****

_April 7th, 1935_

_Harry,_

_Last night, I dreamed about you._

_It wasn’t anything extraordinary, really. We were in the bed of your truck, watching the stars by the lake. It’s a bit blurry thinking back on it and I wish I remembered more. I’m not even sure if we talked. We just laid there. When I woke up, there was a split second where I thought I was back in Georgia. Even in my sleep, I’m absolutely shit at resisting you._

_I haven’t answered your letters because I knew that when I did, it would be to officially say goodbye. Fuck, even just writing that took me almost ten minutes. Sorry if my handwriting is a bit sloppy. I haven’t stopped shaking since I decided to sit down and write you. How can I be alright if I’m finally preparing to leave the love of my life in the past?_

_We were always different, you and I. For a while I thought that we could have been enough where those differences didn’t matter. Our love was brilliant and could overcome any obstacle that life was bound to throw at us. That’s what I kept telling myself, at least. I was wrong, Harry. How could I have been so fucking stupid?_

_You think of home and you think of stability._

_I think of home and I think of you._

_I don’t know how to sit underneath the sun and not reminisce of feeling you by my side, but I have to. I don’t know how to gaze at the night sky and not see the opalescence of your irises, but I have to. I don’t know how to look up at the moon and not think of the first time we made love, but I have to. Harry, I don’t fucking know how to live without you. Charlotte tells me I have to._

_Please don’t write me as I don’t know what I might do if I get one more letter._

_~~Pag~~ _

_Sincerely,_

_Louis_

_P.S. I should tell you that I lied at the beginning of my letter. The dream was extraordinary because we were together._


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this story and supported it! It means the absolute world to me and I am extremely grateful. I hope you enjoy the end and don't absolutely hate me for chapter nine...Oops.
> 
> Come say hello to me on tumblr : domestic-harry
> 
> For the last time, enjoy!  
> -Lis xx

“What’ve you got there?”

Harry’s attention snapped from Louis’ letter towards the doorway where his mother stood. She was elegantly dressed in a lavender silken gown. The shimmering material clung to her frame, only fanning out into a train at the center of her calf. Her hair was craftily pinned by town’s finest hairdresser and looked as if she was attending her own rehearsal dinner. Harry figured that it was more so Anne’s event than his own. 

Ironically, it was _everybody’s_ event except for Harry’s. 

“S’ nothing,” Harry mumbled, shakily folding the piece of paper. He carefully slid it into his breast-pocket, alongside Louis’ first two letters, and cleared his throat, “Are we leavin’?”

Anne looked from where the letter was tucked away and snapped herself out of a daze. “Five minutes,” A wistful smile pinched her cheeks as she nodded. She stepped further into the bedroom, “Oh, you look so handsome, Harry.” 

For the nuptial weekend, Mrs. Mason and his mother had irately fussed about dressing him in the finest clothing that money could afford. A seamstress flew from Long Island to create a custom design for both the rehearsal dinner suit and the ceremonial tuxedo. That evening would be the first impression to not only the wedding party, but the press as well. 

Harry stepped in front of a floor-length vanity and straightened his spine, his shoulders pulling back. The exquisite peony pink suit was uniformly traced by pettily woven ivory pinstripes. The pastel material lined every dip of his body to perfection. Harry straightened the candy-striped Persian blue suspenders that were fastened to the waist of his trousers. Lightly tracing his fingertips over the pearly buttons of a white dress shirt, Harry fastened the corresponding vest to cover his suspenders. 

Anne strolled over and tightened the thickly striped pink and burgundy tie that was knotted along the base of his throat. Harry deftly buttoned the jacket of the suit over the vest. He gently tugged the hem of the jacket before dropping his hands to his side. His mother adjusted the silken burgundy pocket square and stepped back. 

“Perfect,” She dreamily exhaled under her breath. 

Harry nodded and slipped a gold ring over his index finger, the family crest brilliantly gleaming underneath the light. 

Anne contently grinned and started towards the door, “I need to grab my purse and then we can get goin’ to the restaurant.” 

“Mama,” Harry called after her, waiting for her to turn around. When she hummed, he carried on, “Can I drive the truck and meet you two there?” 

She frowned, “Why would you do that?”

“There’s somethin’ I wanted to pick up for Faye,” Harry easily lied, having gotten good at it after five months. He forced a bashful laugh, “Something personal.” 

Anne’s expression brightened just as Harry expected. She quickly nodded, “Of course! Go head on out and we’ll meet at Delmonico’s.” 

“Thank you,” Harry grimaced and quickly left in case she changed her mind. 

It wasn’t a question of where he needed to be as he climbed into the truck and swiftly pulled from the drive. Harry flicked on the headlights and reached into his pocket, pulling out a golden band. His truck jerked underneath him as he sharply turned off the main road, the ring familiarly slipped over his right middle finger. Since January, the wedding band he bought Louis had become a talisman of sorts whenever he was alone. The letter Louis sent him heavily weighed against his heart and just has his hands started to shake, Harry made it to the clearing.

Once the engine was cut, it was eerily silent along the brush of the willow trees. Harry lolled his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He dipped his fingers into the lining of the breast pocket and tugged out the three letters. Cradling them to his chest, he deeply inhaled through his nose and unevenly exhaled from his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull before he gradually opened them. Harry looked down, lowering the folded pieces of paper. 

He read through each letter twice, stroking over the messy loops of Louis’ handwriting as he went. It was cathartic in a sense. After Louis hadn’t responded for months, Harry had continued to write the other man without any hope of a response. If someone was to ask him why he did it, Harry wouldn’t be able to formulate a response other than the fact he was still in love. The ache Louis left in his wake never subsided, only ebbed and flowed as wedding planning and time passed. Some nights he felt numb from the amount he cared for Louis. Others, the times that were more frequent, Harry was in a continuous state of agony. 

That morning, Martha shuffled through the entrance of his bedroom with a layer of apprehension that Harry wasn’t used to seeing directed towards him. With an almost knowing lift of her eyebrow, she quietly informed him that he had a letter from Louis Tomlinson. 

The moment the name slipped from her mouth, Harry was scrambling from his bed. He wasn’t sure what he had expected Louis to say after months of silence. Harry didn’t even know what he wanted the letter to say. What had mattered was that Louis finally gave him _something_. Martha closed the bedroom door behind her when she left. Harry didn’t watch her leave as he sank down to read Louis’ goodbye. His brows were pinched together as he labored over each line. It felt more so like a puzzle than a straightforward farewell and Harry didn’t know what to do with any of it. What he general gathered, was that while Louis still cared for him on some level, he wanted Harry to stop sending letters so he could move on. It crushed him like an anvil at the realization that inside his hands, he gripped the final tether between them. 

Harry folded the letters back into their uniformed squares and reverently pressed them against the plush of his mouth. His shoulders trembled as he pursed his lips. It was a pathetic tradition that subconsciously started since he received the first letter. Tears gathered along his waterline and he weakly pushed them away with the back of his hand. Pocketing the letters and the wedding band, Harry turned the ignition on and drove to Delmonico’s. 

By the time he arrived at the lushly decorated Italian restaurant, Harry had returned to the passive shell he had carefully created since Louis’ absence. His expression was blank as were his thoughts. Guests already filtered into the rented-out building and a line of paparazzi circled the entrance. Harry checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and blotted his cheeks one last time before getting out of the car. Locking the driver’s door behind him, Harry smoothed out any wrinkles in the suit and walked to the entrance.

Flickering lights obscenely blinded him as he got closer, different reporters calling for his attention. While Harry knew that press would be covering the “social event of the season”, he had zero inkling just how many there would be. Clasping his hands behind his back, Harry minutely grinned at the different lenses. 

“There he is!” Mr. Mason bellowed, barreling outside.

“Hello, sir,” Harry politely greeted, letting out a surprised yelp when the older man yanked him into a hug. He was jerked in the direction on the flashing cameras, “Smile real big, son!”

Harry awkwardly accepted embrace and slivered a pitiful excuse for a smile onto his face. Mr. Mason dragged him inside and began introducing Harry to members of the Mason family. A quartet was perched in the corner of the room, providing elegant music for the less than elegant guests as they milled about. It was a spacious restaurant with three different seating areas and while they had rented the building, only two of the main rooms were going to be used. The walls were painted a sickly orange that had his stomach churning. Harry attempted to remain a bare-level of politeness while he greeted the different men and women, but did not bother to even attempt to remember their names. 

_“Is that my fiancé ova there?”_

A flicker of white darted through the crowd of bodies before Faye pushed her way to Harry. Her cheeks were rosy and lips stained red from wine. A pearly chiffon gown was delicately layered over her petite frame and Harry didn’t find one once of her to be attractive. Harry fought of the annoyance that she was likely already drunk before he had even entered the building. Vaguely, he tried to recall if she had always infuriated him that badly.

“Hello,” He quietly greeted, faintly pecking her cheek with chapped lips. 

Faye hummed and wrapped her hand on top of Harry’s bicep. He looked over the crowd and saw his parents schmoozing with the mayor by a garishly colossal ice sculpture. Faye started yammering about last-minute details, but Harry had lost track the moment she opened her mouth. He nodded at the appropriate moments and waited for their cue to sit at the head table. 

Dinner guests took their seats as food was served, Harry opting for a glass of whisky over champagne with his spaghetti carbonara. At the head table, it was Harry, Faye, and both sets of parents. Gemma wasn’t flying in until the following morning which meant Harry was surrounded by five people who were an endless stream of excited wedding murmurs and nothing less. Harry might not have minded if they weren’t strictly focused on the public coverage of the wedding. Sipping the final dregs of his whiskey, Harry saw a familiar face perched by the bar. His eyebrows pinched together. 

“Excuse me,” Harry mumbled to the table before standing upright. 

He weaved his way through the perimeter of circular tables, eyes narrowed on the profile of someone he hadn’t seen in months. Harry stopped directly next to the young man, mouth uselessly opening and closing to formulate words. 

Shaking his head, Harry eventually garbled out, “You – What’re you doin’ here?”

Niall scratched the back of his neck as a fresh pint perched in front of him, “Hey, H.”

“Oh, you must be Harry! Congratulations!”

It wasn’t until she spoke that Harry realized there was a petite woman stood by Niall’s side. Her cropped caramel hair was pinned in thick curls, topaz irises expectantly staring back at Harry. Harry’s gaze dropped to see where Niall’s arm was secured around her waist. 

“Harry,” Niall gestured between the two of them, “Meet, Jules.” He awkwardly added, “Um, we’ve been datin’ for a bit now.”

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” Harry awkwardly stammered, feeling more than uncomfortable that the first time he was speaking to Niall in months was at his own dinner rehearsal. Not to mention finding out Niall was apparently was going steady with a girl he had never even seen before. 

Jules tightly smiled, blatantly feeling the tension between the two men. “You two should talk for a bit,” She nervously cleared her throat. Jules weakly laughed and thumbed over her shoulder, “I’ll, um, find the bar,” Her nose twitched at realization that they were already there, “Or, uh, soemthin’.”

With that, she disappeared into the slew of guests in the second room. 

“Can we talk for a mo’?” Niall carefully asked as if Harry was a cornered animal. 

Harry nodded and gestured towards the door that led to the unoccupied dining room. They snaked their way through the upper-class, but halted as a faint bell-like sound, pierced the air. He faltered in step, turning to see his father standing in the center of the room. 

“I’d like to make a toast,” Robin loudly announced as if he wasn’t already holding a champagne glass in the air. 

The wait staff darted around the room, passing each patron a flute of bubbling liquid. Harry took one with a stilted smile of appreciation. Robin scanned the room, eyes landing on Harry with a slight exclamation. 

“I’d like to make a toast for my only son,” Robin gripped the lapel of his jacket. He stepped towards the center of the room, “His mother and I couldn’t be more delighted at his choice to not only join the family business, but to choose such a lovely woman to share the journey with.” 

Harry instantly bristled at the selected words. His father made it seem as if he was the one to choose Faye and the firm. As if it was his idea all along. The blood pumping through his veins boiled underneath his temperate skin. Harry’s spine stiffened when Robin looked at him. 

“To the happy couple!” 

There was a raucous applause from the guests, the fanfare far too generous for the underwhelming speech. Harry hadn’t realized he was shaking until Niall settled a hand on his shoulder. 

“C’mon,” Niall quietly urged, dragging Harry from the spotlight of attention. 

Anger saturated his emotions in heady waves of disbelief and disgust. His hands clenched as he followed Niall into the adjacent room. The walls were lacquered with a subdued emerald and tables were bare of utensils. Niall pulled out two chairs, settling in the furthest one and then gesturing for Harry to follow suit. Harry was too overwhelmed to collectedly sit still. He gripped his waist with both hands and paced across the Cherrywood floorboards. 

“What’s been goin’ on with you?” Niall asked, his tone neither warm nor unkind. 

Harry fidgeted in place, his jaw clenched tight.

“Look,” Niall held his palms out, “I came tonight to support ya, but you look like the only person who doesn’t even wanna be here.” He exasperatedly pushed his hair from his forehead, “M’ not an idiot. I know somethin’s not right and –”

“I don’t want to get married.” 

Harry felt as if a damn had finally been released inside of his chest at the admission. 

Niall gaped at Harry for half a moment before he composed himself. He narrowed his eyes and stood upright, “Hell, I could have told you that, Harry.” He shoved his hands into his powder blue trousers and shook his head, “That’s not all that’s wrong, though.” Niall cocked his eyebrow, “Whateva is goin’ on started happenin’ before you got engaged.”

Harry’s gut instinct was to object and tell Niall off for assuming something was wrong. He hadn’t been around the past five months, so what could he possibly know of what Harry was going through? Then, Harry thought of the letter he wrote to Louis in the greenhouse. Everything had piled up inside of his chest and he was being crushed by it all. What it all came down to was that Harry had nothing left to lose. 

“You’re still my friend, yeah?” Harry cautiously mumbled as he toyed with his fingers. 

Niall sighed, “M’ still you’re _best_ friend.” He huffed a laugh, “Even when you’re bein’ shit.”

He hesitated to for a second, hands quivering with nerves. Sucking in a breath, Harry decided that he had to stop being a coward. He could do this. Niall’s mouth tipped in confusion when Harry reached into his breast pocket and pulled out Louis’ letters. 

“These,” Harry’s voice hitched as he looked down at the folded pieces of paper. “Um,” He slowly offered them to Niall, “They’re letters and, uh…They – They’ll explain it. Everything.” 

Niall took the letters and sat back down, his forearms lowering to the tops of his knees. He unfolded the first letter, brows pinched together from the opening endearment. Harry turned on his heel, unable to watch Niall’s face be filled with disgust as he unveiled the truths of his heart. There was a sharp inhale from behind him and all Harry could do was squeeze his eyes shut. 

Laughter reverberated from the room next door and Harry hated every single person that was able to go about their evenings as if the groom-to-be wasn’t a broken individual. Not a single one of them were concerned about his well-being. He was foolish to think that his parents would truly care once he fulfilled their wishes. They would never truly love him. Not in the way someone else unconditionally did. 

“Harry.”

Harry flinched at the sound of his name. He kept his back towards Niall. 

“I – You were with Louis? I mean – Y’know, _with_ him?” Niall stumbled over his words. There was disbelief in his voice, but no anger. 

He stiffly nodded. 

“Have you always – I mean, is that why you never with…”

Harry slowly turned around, but kept his eyes down. He shrugged, “Never with anyone but him.” 

It was quiet for another moment and Harry could hear Mr. Mason’s boisterous laughter from next door. 

“Did you love ‘im back?”

Harry snapped his head upright, brows pinched. 

Niall was questioningly watching him from the chair. A fine wrinkle creased along his forehead. His body was openly faced towards Harry, neither threatening nor cowardly. There wasn’t anything other than curiosity fleeting over Naill’s expression and for some reason, it unnerved Harry.

He gave a small nod, “Still do.” 

A frown tugged the edges of Niall’s mouth, his eyes darting back to the letter in his hands. Harry braced himself for the shouts of disgust. He sucked in a breath and averted his gaze. Sweat gathered along his hairline, one droplet licking its way down to the junction of his neck. He waited. 

“Why the fuck are ya still here?”

Harry reared back, slightly stumbling at Niall’s outburst. Niall stood from the chair and was looking at Harry as if he was the sole most unintelligent human to walk the earth. 

“I – What?” Harry’s squinted, his arms protectively folding over his chest.

Niall waved the letters, “The poor lad is miserable over ya.” He shook his head, “You still love ‘im…But, you’re gonna marry _Faye_?” Niall’s tongue poked out in disgust, “Where’s the logic in that?” 

“You were the one tellin’ me to man up and just –” Harry shouted, cutting off to vaguely gesture in the air. 

“Well, yeah, but that was before I knew you were fuckin’ bent!” Niall rolled his eyes. He instantly flinched, “Probably shouldn’t say that, should I?”

Harry was at a loss for words, his jaw openly hanging loose. 

“I wasn’t tryin’ to be offensive, honest,” Niall winced as he rocked his weight from foot to foot.

“You,” Harry lowered his hands, his shoulders drooping, “You really don’t care?”

“I mean,” Niall held his hands out to the side, “I care you didn’t trust me enough to know.” He sadly tilted his head, “Or, even if you didn’t wanna tell me…You didn’t have to completely forget ‘bout me.”

Harry flushed with guilt and looked down, “M’ sorry.” He leaned his weight to the right, “I was just overwhelmed, ya know? It was really fuckin’ scary.” Harry wiped a hand over his face, “But, you’re right. I shouldn’t have just dropped off without explainin’ what was going on.” He earnestly met Niall’s eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Niall eventually nodded and a gradual smirk curled his mouth. He crossed his arms, “And to think, this whole time I thought you jus’ wanted Tomlinson to be you’re new best friend, but you really just wanted his –”

“Niall!” Harry embarrassingly whined and covered his crimson cheeks. He shook his head, “Shut it.”

A smug grin spread over Niall’s face and Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his incredulousness. He felt incredibly lighter by having just one person know how he felt. It was the sweetest relief that Harry never thought he would get. 

“So,” Niall probed.

“So…”

Niall dramatically rolled his eyes, “What’re you doin’ here?”

Harry pointedly looked towards the other dining room, “My parents –”

“Are gonna suffocate ya.” 

Harry dropped his hand to the side, feeling the fight inside of his die out as he shook his head, “There’s nothing I can do about it now.” 

“Bud,” Niall intently took a step closer, “As far as I know, an’ stop me if I’m just talkin’ crap, but you’ve only loved two things in yer life.” He held up an index finger, “First, was music. But ya gave up on that in February.” Niall passed and Harry the letters, “Second, this Louis fella. And judgin’ by the letters, he still loves you, too.” 

Harry took the letters and pinched them between the pads of his fingers. He stared at Louis’ signature and felt his stomach clench. Gingerly folding the papers, Harry slipped them back into his pocket. When the wedding ring brushed against his fingertips, he toyed with it for a mere moment before removing his hand. 

“What,” Harry cleared his throat and spoke louder, “What would you do?”

Niall shifted his weight and angled his head forwards as if he was about to reveal a secret. 

“I’d be on the next plane outta here.”

Harry’s heart rabbited inside his chest and for the first time since November, it wasn’t in distress. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. His eyes darted towards the adjacent room then back to Niall. 

“Really?” He quietly asked, not allowing his hopes to reach too high.

Niall seriously nodded. 

Excitement injected itself into his bloodstream. He tangled his fingers together, “They’d never let me call off the wedding.” Doubt doused his confidence before it fully ignited, “They’d make me do it and –”

“Which is why I’m gonna help you get outta here,” Niall cut him off and clasped Harry on the shoulder. He winked, “Wer’re gonna get you to New York, Styles. I promise.” 

****

“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” Robin bowed to the room. “One last toast to these two,” He gestured towards Harry and Faye, “And then off for a good night’s sleep before the big day tomorrow!” 

Faye lifted her champagne glass and eagerly grinned at Harry, her blonde hair messily slipping in front of her face. Harry smiled back at her and it was the first time he genuinely meant it. She looked floored by the insignificant gesture, teeth dipping into her crimson lip. Faye had probably caught on that he had been pretending for the better half of the year. Harry almost felt bad that the reason he smiled was because it would be the last time he would have to look at her face.

“To the future of Harry Styles and Faye Mason,” His father cheered. 

The sentiment echoed from everyone in the room. Harry’s attention snapped towards Niall, seeing him already standing from his table with Jules in tow. They covertly winked at each other before Niall whispered something into Jules’ ear, his spine arching over to reach her smaller frame. Harry sipped his champagne and anxiously watched the couple. Jules’ eyebrows were furrowed for a moment as she listened, her eyes darting towards Harry. When Niall pulled back to look at Jules, hopefulness painted his face. Harry lowered his glass and sucked in a breath. 

_Please, please, please._

Jules’ minutely shrugged before picking up a water glass from a nearby table and promptly dumped it over Niall’s head. 

“You bastard!” She shouted, her shrill voice getting the attention from everyone in the restaurant. 

Harry stood from his seat at the same time his parents did. He slowly stepped towards the back wall. 

“I’m tryin’ to apologize!” Niall bellowed out, his hands wildly failing. 

Jules scoffed and pushed a chair over, “Tell all these people what yer apologizin’ for and see what they think!” 

Harry would have to send her a very expensive gift-basket. 

“What’s goin’ on here?” Robin flustered, striding over to the pair. 

Making sure no one was paying attention to him, Harry slinked to the empty dining room. He immediately broke out into a run towards the back exit, heart throbbing with adrenaline. There was a sudden clatter of shattering glass from the other room just as Harry made it outside.

“Did ya’ll hear that?”

Harry froze in his step and whipped his head towards the entrance of the restaurant. 

The awaiting press was craning their necks in the direction of the front doors where shouts could be heard. Cigars lazily hung from their mouths as they closed in towards the entrance, lifting their cameras. Releasing a relieved exhale, Harry snaked along the shadows of the lot. 

“Think the engagement is off?” One of the men eagerly asked the others. 

A man with slicked blonde hair cackled, “I fuckin’ hope so.” He high-fived one of the other men, “It’s payday, boys!”

Harry quietly opened the door to his truck and got in. Once his engine started, he instantly looked towards the group of vultures. They were still eagerly staring at Domenico’s doors. He laughed to himself and profusely thanked every god possible that his attention hungry mother had invited them. Flooring the engine, Harry drove to the plantation. 

Niall promised him at least a ten minute head start so he could gather some belongings. Watching the ticking hand of his pocket watch, Harry suspected that he only had two more minutes before someone noticed his absence. He pressed harder on the gas pedal. 

The moment his car was in park, Harry stumbled out and sprinted inside the massive home. His footsteps were thunderous as he darted to his bedroom. Yanking a suitcase out from underneath his bed, Harry began packing. His hands shook as he looted his wardrobe, choosing expensive suits that he would be able to sell for an impressive profit. He was frantically throwing in a pocket of money he had stashed since he was an adolescent, when someone cleared their voice in the doorway. Harry slammed the suitcase shut and spun on his heel, eyes wide with fear.

“Goin’ somewhere?” Martha asked with her arms folded. 

Harry panicked as he heard a muffler rumble from the end of the drive, “I –” 

She knowingly smirked, “Tell Louis hello from me.”

“What?!” Harry yelped, his voice higher than usual. He looked towards his windows where headlights appeared, “How’d you even –”

“Mister Styles,” Martha sighed and tutted her tongue, “I’ve known you since you were just a boy. You really think you could be sneakin’ around here without me figurin’ it out?”

Harry embarrassingly flushed.

“Not to mention,” She brightly laughed, “You weren’t exactly quiet that night he came ‘round for dinner.” 

“Oh my god,” Harry groaned and covered his face. 

There was a slamming of a two car doors outside. 

“Fuck,” He hissed, whirling towards the loaded suitcase. 

Martha started walking out of his bedroom, “I’m givin’ you five minutes to get outta here, Harry.”

Harry’s brows pinched together just as the front door opened. 

“Where the fuck is he?” Robin shouted, his fury sending wracks of shivers through Harry’s body. 

Martha narrowed her eyes, “ _Five minutes_.”

“Just relax, dear,” Anne weakly called from somewhere below. “We don’t know –”

“I will not fuckin’ relax!” Robin spat. He shrilly laughed, “That was his buddy causin’ a scene! A fuckin’ _scene_! Everyone will be laughin’ about this for years!” 

Martha left Harry’s room and he could hear her descending the stairs. Harry locked his bedroom door. 

“Martha!” Anne exclaimed, sounding relieved. “Have you seen Harry?” 

“No ma’am,” Martha calmly said. She paused for a moment, “Though, now I think about it, there was some noise from the cellar.”

“Robin,” Anne gasped, “You think he might be tryin’ the safe?”

Harry dashed to the window and flung it open, not bothering to second guess himself as he chucked the suitcase outside. 

“That little shit,” Robin loudly seethed and then there was a heard of footsteps. 

Climbing onto the windowsill, Harry took one look at the sycamore branch that extended two feet away. He swallowed his fears and jumped. A breathless laugh teetered out as he clung to the branch with all of his strength. Harry gritted his teeth and pulled himself upwards, his muscles screeching in protest. He hauled his body over the branch and climbed towards the tree trunk. As he shimmied down the length of the sycamore, he could hear his bedroom door being pounded against with heavy fists. He dropped from the lowest branch and hurriedly grabbed the suitcase. 

Harry’s heart hammed as he bounded to the truck, eyes latched onto remaining distance. He ripped the door open and tossed the suitcase onto the passenger seat. Just as he climbed inside, there was a blistering crack of wood from the open window. Harry shoved the key into the ignition and brought the engine to life. The truck jerked as he drove down the driveway, dust kicking in the wake of his tires. He glimpsed in the rearview window and could see the silhouette of his father leaning from the bedroom window. 

Summer air whipped into the cab of the truck as Harry hurdled down the main road. Tears spilled from his eyes, finally being released by an emotion that wasn’t heartbreak. He was shattering the chains that Dahlonega had strangled him with for the past nineteen years. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the wedding ring, slipping it past his second knuckle. A euphoric cackle tore from somewhere inside of him, finally releasing itself into the night. He giddily slapped his palm onto the steering wheel, when he passed the town line. 

Two hours later, Harry parked his truck at the airport in Atlanta without intentions of ever returning to it.

**** 

_“That will conclude your flight this morning. Thank you for choosing Imperial Airways and enjoy your stay in New York.”_

After waiting nearly eight hours at the airport and then another two and a half hours inside of a plane, Harry finally made it to New York.

He expected that he would be a rattled with nerves the first time he flew, but his body had been so drained that he barely waited three minutes before falling asleep. Harry swallowed a yawn and looked along the aisle of the aircraft. It was narrow and uniformly lined with six seats along each side. As the passengers in front of him began to get out of their seats, Harry lethargically scrubbed a hand over his eyes and looked outside of the rectangular window. It was late morning and the sun had already positioned herself in the center of the sky. A few cumulous clouds billowed above the speedway and for some reason Harry was surprised that it didn’t look any different from the Atlanta airport. 

“Sir?”

Harry turned from the window and flinched as the airhostess was expectantly watching him. He stood from the seat, joints painfully crackling as he murmured, “Apologies, ma’am.” 

Once his feet touched the pavement of the speedway, Harry’s adrenaline began to kick back in. Another hostess handed him his luggage from the barrel of the aircraft. Gripping the handle of the case, he followed the other passengers inside of a grand brick building. People dotted in orderly lines for upcoming flights, looking either impatient or nervous for their turn. Keeping his head ducked low, Harry carried his luggage closer and strode to the front exit where there was an array of yellow taxi cabs. He didn’t waste time before clambering into the back of one. 

The middle-aged cabbie looked over his shoulder and suckled on his cigarette, blatantly assessing Harry before turning back to the front, “Where you headed?”

Harry had the address memorized since he received the first letter.

“Number twenty-eight on West Fourth Street.”

After a hum of affirmation, the cabbie pulled away from the curb and drove in the direction of the city. Harry mindlessly toyed with the gold band rested on his finger while he looked out of the window. He froze once he got his first glimpse at the Manhattan skyline. 

_“Oh my god.”_

The cabbie chuckled, “She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”

Harry couldn’t do anything more than dumbly nod in agreement as he practically pressed his nose against the window. Cars zoomed around them, knitting into the city in a slew of honking horns. The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as they entered the brick jungle. He craned his neck to get a better look at each building, but it was a useless effort. Changing tactics, he watched the pedestrians. He nearly swallowed his tongue at the sight of a woman with a hemline that touched just above her kneecaps. Harry watched her in awe before turning to look out of the windshield. 

“Holy hell!” Harry excitedly yelped at the sight of a tall spire. He turned to the cabbie, “Is that –”

“The Empire State Building?” The cabbie finished for him. He proudly nodded, “Tallest buildin’ in the world that is.”

Harry gaped in amazement and couldn’t help the boyish eagerness that trilled through his veins. 

“Are you gonna be a student at NYU?” The older man asked, meeting Harry’s gaze in the rearview mirror. 

“Um,” Harry hesitated, “I have no idea.”

He looked over his shoulder, bushy brows furrowed, “What brings you to the city, then?”

“Uh,” Harry promptly looked down at his lap, “Someone I know moved here in November.”

“Ah,” The cabbie drawled out, turning left then a swift right. He hummed, “Chasin’ after a lost love, hmm?” The cabbie glimpsed at Harry and winked, “Wouldn’t be the first, kid.”

Harry nervously laughed as he realized the full weight of his impending actions. His lack of response seemed to be all the affirmation the driver needed. The rest of the drive was silent and Harry hadn’t looked up from his lap. He tried to regulate his erratic breathing, but with each passing minute, he started to slip into panic. 

“And here we are,” The cabbie announced. “That’ll be three-fifty.” 

Pulling four dollars from his wallet, Harry handed them to the driver, “Keep the change.”

The man gratefully smiled, his cheeks ruddy, “Thanks, kid.”

Harry roughly swallowed before he timidly looked out of the window and towards the enormous apartment building. The red bricked structure threateningly towered over them. Numbly, Harry reached for the door handle and gradually pushed it open. He slid from the leather seat and stood outside, eyes focused on a navy overhang that loomed above the entrance. 

“Don’t forget your luggage!” 

“Oh, right,” Harry shook his head and reached back into the car for the suitcase. 

The cabbie was turned to face him, smile playing at the side of his mouth. He nodded, “Good luck in there.”

Harry shakily smiled, “Thank you.”

Shutting the door behind him, Harry stood at the foot of Louis’ building. The cab pulled away into traffic and he assumed that would be the last he’d ever see of the man. Slowly, he walked to the front steps. He hesitated for a moment before pulling on the silver handle of the door. When it didn’t immediately open, Harry spiraled into a deeper panic. He stepped back and looked over the entrance, frowning at the sight of a panel of buttons to the left. They were similar to the ones inside the elevator of Liam’s building, but instead of being labeled by numbers, they were labeled by name. 

_Tomlinson_

Harry stared at the name for nearly a minute before he reached out and slowly pushed it. 

There was a monotonous buzzing from an embedded speaker and Harry jerked back. He frowned at the panel before he heard a crackling of static. 

_“Lottie? Is that you already?”_

Harry smacked his palm over his mouth and stared at the intercom with blown out pupils. 

After months of not hearing Louis’ voice, Harry thought that he imagined just how lovely it was. He thought he exaggerated the way the other man had the ability to render him weak by just speaking. Gaping at the intercom, Harry knew that he hadn’t exaggerated one bit. 

A faint pinging rung from the speaker and Louis quickly rushed out, “Shit. I gotta get the stove. Just let yourself in!”

The front door loudly clicked and Harry snapped his head to follow the sound. He hesitated before reaching for the handle once more. That time when he pulled, it easily swung open. Lifting his suitcase from the ground, he walked inside of the building. 

Directly across from the entrance was a staircase that circled to the upper floors. Harry crossed the white tiled flooring and stood on the bottom step. He looked up and nearly got dizzy from just how high the staircase wound. Shaking his head, he steeled a breath and started to climb to the fifth floor. His lungs were ballooning by the time he stopped on Louis’ landing, but it wasn’t because of the steps. There were two red doors on the landing. The left labeled _one_ and the right labeled _two_. 

Harry stood outside of the right door, heart wedged in his throat. 

When he raised his knuckles to knock, he faltered at the sight of the wedding ring. Harry tugged it off and safely slipped it into his pocket. He raked a hand through his hair and attempted to smooth out the tendrils. Closing his eyes, Harry counted to five and then knocked. At the sound of pattering footsteps and a deadbolt sliding free, he opened his eyes. 

“What took ya so –” 

_Sunshine._

Standing in front of Louis for the first time since November 20th was equivalent to finally seeing sunshine after five months of perpetual darkness. He was the gilded golden light of Harry’s life and he was immaculate. 

Harry hungrily roamed over Louis’ appearance, cataloguing every fine detail. His hair was longer now, shagging over his forehead and just two inches from brushing his shoulders. The brush of plum bruises circled underneath his eyes, accentuating his irises into an even brighter blue than Harry remembered. A grey Henley hung from his upper-body and looped around the base of his throat was a ratted red bandana. His petal pink lips were parted as he exhaled. 

_“Harry.”_

At the sound of his name slipping from Louis’ lips, Harry nearly collapsed onto the landing. 

“Lou,” He barely made out, his voice cracking over the name he hadn’t dared to say aloud in nearly half a year. 

Louis slumped against the doorframe, hand lifting to cover his mouth. His eyes were welling up and Harry barely refrained from stepping forward to wipe away the budding tears. 

“What’re,” Louis roughly choked off, shaking his head. “M’ goin’ fucking crazy,” He incredulously laughed and jolted upright as if he had been struck by lightning. “You’re getting married today,” Louis mumbled under his breath, but Harry still heard him. He looked terrified as he stared at Harry, “ _Fuck_. I’m losing it.”

Before Harry could even formulate a response, Louis stiffly turned around and strode into the apartment. Snatching his suitcase, Harry chased after him. He had come too far not to chase after Louis this time. 

Louis’ home was nothing more than a quaint apartment. Harry faltered for a moment while his gaze darted over every detail. Worn floorboards stretched from the living room to two unevenly spaced doors. His jaw slackened at the sight of eggshell walls, a faint pigment of blue bleeding from underneath the fresh lacquer. The miniature coffee table was free of books and coffee-stained mugs. A reading lamp crowed over an arm chair, but the chord was not plugged into the nearby socket. Nothing hung on the walls. With a crushing sense of reality, Harry knew that if he hadn’t followed Louis inside, he would have never believed it was the other man’s home. 

There was a sharp clatter, drawing Harry’s attention back to what was truly important. He dropped the suitcase and rounded a bamboo partition that acted as wall for a kitchenette. Louis’ back was to him and his fingers were shaking as he gripped the neck of a beer bottle. Tension pinched every tendon of his body. 

“Lou –”

A tinny scream shot from Harry’s throat when Louis hurled the bottle against the right wall. The shattering glass was deafening inside the apartment. Beer spattered along the painted wall, drowning it in alcohol and heartache. Louis curled in on himself and wilted to the ground. His fingers curled into his hair as his shoulders shook. Not stopping to think twice, Harry shot across the room and fell to his knees. 

Harry spread his thighs and wrapped his arms around Louis’ upper-body to pull him close. The moment Louis sank to Harry’s chest, he started to cry. It was the kind of sob that shook Louis’ entire body and in extension, Harry’s. Cradling one hand against the back of Louis’ neck, Harry crawled into the other man’s lap. Louis dropped his hands to snake them around Harry’s back, his fingers desperately fisting the material of Harry’s suit. His nose tucked into Louis’ neck and he deeply inhaled, mewling at the pine musk that was undoubtedly _Louis_.

There was a relentless list of things Harry wanted to say in that moment. He had spent days thinking of what he would tell Louis if he ever saw him again. Harry thought of the apologies he would make, the reassurance he could have said to make the other man stay. He would tell Louis that he loved him. Harry would have assured the other man knew he was still everything. 

In that moment, as they were intertwined in the most fragile of embraces, Harry couldn’t think of a single thing to say. So, he held Louis closer. As sentiments became fruitless, it was their relentless grips that never faltered. 

_Never let me go. Never let me go. Never let me go._

With the passing minutes, Louis’ body slowly unwound until he was nearly boneless against Harry’s chest. Harry slowly carded his fingers into the longer pieces of hair against Louis’ neck. He counted Louis’ heartbeats until they were consistently thudding in time with his own. Louis’ fingers slowly unwound from Harry’s suit before he leaned back. Harry pulled away a few inches so he could look at Louis. 

Louis’ cheeks were blotchy and his eyes bloodshot. He looked up at Harry and slowly dragged his gaze over Harry’s face. His fingers trembled as they traced over Harry’s face. An unsteady exhale seeped from Harry’s mouth and he closed his eyes. Louis’ touch was feather-light and if Harry wasn’t so attuned to him, he might have missed the feeling altogether. Every brush of Louis’ fingertips felt like a prayer being worshiped into his skin. It awoken the tenderness inside of Harry that he refused to allow anyone to see since Thanksgiving. 

“Why are you here?”

Harry opened his eyes and met Louis’ searching gaze. Louis’ voice was barely over a whisper, as if he didn’t actually want to know the answer. His bottom lip was worried between his teeth while he waited for Harry’s answer. Harry lifted his shoulder before helplessly shrugging. 

“Because, I’m choosing you.”

Louis’ hand fell and he harshly sniffed, turning his head away from Harry. A pearly tear coursed the length of his cheekbone. Harry was quick to thumb it away with a brush of his thumb. He cupped Louis’ jaw and slowly maneuvered the other man so Louis would meet his eyes.

“Because, you are still everything to me.”

A sharp exhale left Louis’ chest and he clenched his eyes shut. A few more tears fell and that time, Harry carefully leaned forward to kiss them away. Louis trembled, but he brought his hands to securely frame Harry’s face. Their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling together in a familiarity that Harry would have thought that lost. 

“Because, I’m still in love with you.”

Tilting his head to the right, Louis crashed his lips against Harry’s. 

Unyielding passion that had been dormant for too long was reignited inside of Harry’s veins as he tasted Louis. Lighting crashed inside of his cells, finally bringing him back to life. Harry crowded impossible closer and tightened his grip. Louis was keening into his mouth as they moved together. He suckled Louis’ bottom lip between his teeth and he carefully nipped. A delicate whimper slipped from Louis’ tongue and Harry was quick to swallow it. Harry fractionally pulled back to kiss over every inch of Louis’ skin.

“I love you,” Harry ardently said as he pursed his lips to Louis’ cheek. He kissed Louis’ forehead, “I love you.” Harry tilted Louis’ jaw and licked over his pulse point, “ _Fuck_. I love you so much.”

For the first time, it wasn’t drowning that brought Harry clarity. It was having Louis’ body pressed against his own, not weighing him down, but setting him free. 

With Louis, he was _flying_. 

Louis blinked up at him, starlight piecing into Harry’s heart. 

“I still love you, too.”

****

During the following week, it would be reported in the local papers that Harry Styles fled from his rehearsal dinner and left town. High-society would smear his name in fine print, always assured to get their own names quoted for history to see. Plastered in the center of the two-page spread would be a grainy photograph of Anne Styles sobbing in embarrassment at her son’s selfish actions. His father’s eyes were sunken as they glared at the camera, his legacy trickling down the drain for the word to see. Journalists speculated Faye to marry the following April as it would unveil that she had a secret lover. Mr. and Mrs. Mason refused to comment on the arrangement. 

What the papers failed to report was that Harry Styles now lived in a small apartment, just ten minutes from NYU where he studied music theory. They did not comment how it took two months for Louis Tomlinson, a twenty-three year old mechanic, to fully trust him again. Journalists skimmed over the hours of communication underneath wool blankets, bodies pressed tightly together as they labored over rebuilding their relationship. There were no witnesses to describe the mending of two kindred souls until they were finally one piece. Most importantly, the papers never mentioned that on November 21st, 1935, Louis Tomlinson, would begin to wear a golden wedding band that had been purchased the previous year.


End file.
